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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012544">Renegade Nights</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Immortal_Hope/pseuds/This_Immortal_Hope'>This_Immortal_Hope</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Violence, Confrontations, Emotional Baggage, Forgiveness, Hurt/Comfort, Mating Bond, Mutual Pining, Oral Sex, Pining, Post-A Court of Wings and Ruin, Post-Canon, Romance, Sex, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, The Day Court (ACoTaR), The Night Court</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:28:31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>77,541</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24012544</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/This_Immortal_Hope/pseuds/This_Immortal_Hope</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Cassian knows that there’s only one person and one place that might actually be able to help Nesta, because as much as he hates to admit it, and against the wishes of the High Lord and Lady of Night- it isn’t him, and it sure as hell isn’t the Illyrian mountains. </p><p>There is nothing that Nesta hates more than lack of control, and everything about this magic that whirls and rages inside of her veins is unpredictable, terrifying, and all-consuming. So she shoves it, and everything else that she feels, down as far as she can.</p><p>With a civil war threatening to break out in Illyria, and the sudden involvement of a bright new spell-cleaving tutor in the Day Court, these two are about to learn that there are different kinds of battles, and sometimes you have to win the fight inside of yourself before you’re ready to take on anyone else. Luckily for them, Cassian and Nesta have always been exceptional fighters. Especially with each other.<br/>_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________<br/>Renegade (Noun): </p><p>a deserter from one faith, cause, or allegiance to another;<br/>(or)<br/>an individual who rejects lawful or conventional behaviour.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nesta Archeron/Cassian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>181</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>464</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Prologue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Cassian never understood the phrase ‘heartbreakingly beautiful’. He has been with his share of beautiful women, but he never once thought that it was how a woman <em>looked</em> that could break a man’s heart.</p>
<p>In this moment, however, he understands what that phrase really means. It doesn’t mean that the woman in front of him is so beautiful that she could break hearts, though she is. The woman standing in front of him is so beautiful in her solemn quiet, so graceful in how she carries her grief, so biting in how she lashes out her pain, but it is her silence in this moment that he finds heartbreaking.</p>
<p> Her face tells him everything; that beautiful, perfect face that is etched with sorrow and loss beyond her years. As Cassian stares at Nesta’s pale, thin body with the light grey dress hanging off of her, he sees the way that her eyes glaze over at her sister’s rejection, how her jaw sets in a way that tries to convince everyone she doesn’t care; in that moment he understands the phrase. She is heartbreakingly beautiful.</p>
<p>Looking at her like this is breaking his heart, months of watching the strong, brilliant woman he knows her to be practically fade in front of him and not even shout her own defences <em>broke</em> his heart. When her eyes meet his in quiet resignation of her exile and he sees just the tiniest spark of that old flame inside of her, Cassian thinks that he would rip the beating heart from his chest with his bare hands and serve it to her on a silver platter if it would bring the fire back into her eyes, if it would light her soul on fire so hot it burned him again, if she would even stare with just a shred of ice in her gaze. Anything, anything except for this grieving, resigned husk of a woman.</p>
<p>The whole room is waiting in silence for her to respond in some way. Amren shifts a little on her perch and Cassian has to stop himself from physically lunging at her to remove that stupid smirk from her face. Why Feyre thought it would be a good idea to let the tiny terror be here to taunt Nesta, he cannot imagine.</p>
<p>Nesta shocks them all when she merely nods her head, “as you wish, <em>my lady</em>” the words carry more venom in them than if she had called her sister a whore. Nesta’s bored, dull eyes survey the room and she speaks in a steady voice “I do not know why you all have your mouths gaping open as if you are trying to catch flies. It is clear you think me weak and pathetic, but do you think I am stupid as well? I know that I am not wanted here, and I will not throw myself at anyone’s feet and beg to remain somewhere I am not wanted.”</p>
<p>“Nesta that’s not-” Feyre begins, but Nesta’s hand goes up, silencing her immediately as though she is the one with the crown and throne.</p>
<p>“I fought in your war. I went to your meetings and I told my stories. Then the fighting ended, and I returned to your court where I am now useless. You can dress this up however you like, however helps you to sleep at night Feyre, but I have displeased you and I am being sent away.” Her gaze shifts a little, smirking as she takes in Rhysand and her sisters’ intertwined hands “I will not make it difficult for you to be rid of me, dear sister. If you presume, however, that sending me off into a cold, dirty war camp and having that one” a finger points at Cassian “try to make me train to become a good little soldier is going to make me belong here any more than I do right now, then you are wrong. Do not fantasize about the day that I walk into this room full of apologies for my behaviour and get down on my knees before the Lord and Lady of the Night Court. Do not think, for one second that this is the solution to tie up the final loose end in the perfect, codependent little circle you have built around yourself. I am not the prodigal sister, and I will not live my life to fit <em>your narrative</em>” Nesta has spun on her heel and is exiting the room before the final words even leave her mouth.</p>
<p>Cassian lets out a bitter, confused kind of laugh, looking around the room to realize that no one else is going to go after her. He sighs and flares his wings out a little before gliding across the marble floors to follow where he hears Nesta leaving out of the front door.</p>
<p>         “Go back to your masters” Nesta bites out when she hears Cassian’s careful gait approaching behind her.</p>
<p>         “Nesta, <em>stop</em>” he growls, the order clear in his voice.</p>
<p>She stops, but does not turn to him, letting him walk up so that is front is nearly pressed against her back as she speaks “the last time I checked, <em>General</em>, we are not in the Steppes yet and you are not in charge of my actions.”</p>
<p>         Cassian steps even closer, practically breathing her in, wincing slightly at the scent of alcohol and that male still clinging to her “listen, I didn’t want to-”</p>
<p>Nesta whirls on him, cutting him off with an even, brittle tone “I will not be grateful to you because Feyre would have thrown me to the wolves had you not martyred yourself to be exiled with the witch”</p>
<p>“I was going to say” he grits his teeth, looking down at her “I didn’t want to go through all of that, and if I thought for a gods-damned second that you would listen to what I have to say under any other circumstances-”</p>
<p>“So, this was your idea?” her voice shakes a little for the first time since… he can’t actually remember the last time he’s heard Nesta’s voice shake. It’s that split second of what almost looks like hurt flashing across her eyes that has Cassian’s blazing anger dying down just a little as the mystery that is Nesta Archeron turns another page right in front of him.</p>
<p>“No” he runs a hand through his hair “trust me, none of this was my idea. I was perfectly happy to let you rot for a few years and figure it out on your own. I can’t say that I’ve been exactly where you are, but I’ve fallen into a few post-battle holes in my 500 years, and I can’t imagine that there is anything any of us can say or do that is going to change anything.”</p>
<p>“You’re smarter than you look” her eyes are still dead, and he hates it. He can barely even look at her like this. Cassian just stares ahead. “It won’t take me long to pack” her voice is quiet, resigned “and when we get to the mountains I’ll stay out of your way if you stay out of mine.”</p>
<p>         The delicate blue and white scarf is still grasped in Cassian’s hand, he folds it in half and wraps it around her neck “I told you it was going to be cold” there is nothing soft or alluring or sensual in the way that Cassian grips an arm around her waist and launches them both into the sky “but you don’t need to pack.” He'd rather she burn everything in that sorry excuse of an apartment if he is being honest. Everything that is drenched in the scent of pain wine and males.</p>
<p>         “I’ve been to the Illyrian camps, I need something warmer than this” her eyes don’t even widen in shock at the flight. There is nothing he can do that will put any of that emotion past her ice wall anymore, it would seem.</p>
<p>         Cassian just rolls his eyes “I’m not taking you to the fucking Mountains, Nesta.”</p>
<p>         Well, at least that got her eyes a little wider.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A new Day</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This story is an expansion of a very rushed drabble I posted on my tumblr a while back, and I reused a few lines from that drabble in this chapter in case something looks familiar! Basically I am going insane without the Nessian book so I'm just going to write my own and anyone else who wants to come along on the journey then grab a seat (since this is the only kind of journey anyone is allowed on right now....)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>         The first thing that Nesta notes about this new court is that every surface is pure in a sort of otherworldly perfection, the palace exists in a world that is clean and bright and unblemished even by Prythian standards. She has never felt so dirty in her life. Sure, entering Feyre’s glittering palace on the river with its dramatic marble floors and annoyingly tasteful pallet of purples and blues with art on every wall had made her feel out of place, but walking into this pure expanse of white and gold modelled like an ancient palace of the gods with the constant feel of sunshine somehow settled into every corner and fleck of paint makes her feel as though the pure clarity of this place is piercing into the darkest parts of her soul and trying to cleans <em>her</em>, not just her slightly grubby dress and the still wine-soaked shoes she wears.</p><p>         “I thought I heard the flap of that legendary wingspan, oh handsome commander of the Night Court armies” Nesta recognizes the man who stands in front of her, practically shining from within. His dark skin and hair are perfectly illuminated by the pure gold of his tunic and flowing pants. He speaks to Cassian, but his eyes are entirely on her. Cassian and Azriel have green-gold eyes that flicker and burn in their own way, but this man is something else entirely. He looks at her with a gaze that is made of molten sunlight, burning right through her. He regards her even more closely than when last they met, as if trying to gauge everything that has happened in the months following the war.</p><p>         “Why the hell did you bring me here, Cassian?” Nesta is unnerved enough that she does not carefully stop herself from saying the Illyrian's full name, and whether or not he can read it on her face, she will never admit that every nerve ending in her body is squirming under Helion’s careful gaze.</p><p>         Cassian just sighs at her predictable insolence “The Day Court is known as the keeper of information. They have libraries the size of the entire Spring Court, and Helion himself is-”</p><p>         “Helion spell-cleaver, I remember from when he tried to get under my skirts the first time we met. I don’t see how a shimmering flirt is meant to help me-”</p><p>         “Do you think that I don’t know your powers are still eating you alive?” he cuts her off harshly “I meant what I said, I was happy to let you get through this all on your own, until I realized that trauma wasn’t what was crushing you. So, maybe if you would listen to Helion instead of insulting him-”</p><p>         The High Lord of day just laughs, a warm, mirthful sound that sets Nesta’s teeth on edge “You should know by now that I am not so easily offended, commander” his voice is still warm and light as he turns back to Nesta. “You are not the first beautiful, powerful woman with a tongue like iron blades to walk into my territory, Nesta Archeron. And gods be good you certainly will not be the last”</p><p>         Nesta narrows her eyes, not trusting the too-pretty man in front of her for a second “I’m not going to sleep with you, if that is your angle here” she growls.</p><p>         “You’ve certainly done worse” Cassian grumbles from behind her and a blinding rage fills Nesta’s entire body.</p><p>         “How dare you” she seethes through her teeth, body tight and tense, her fingers curl into a fist until her nails cut into her palms to stop her from exploding.</p><p>         Helion observes her quietly as Cassian moves closer, putting himself directly into her line of vision “oh, do you not like it when I mention the sort of <em>things</em> you do, Nes?”</p><p>         “don’t call me that”</p><p>         “and what do <em>they</em> call you? The men that stream in and out of your window. Do they know your name? Do you know any of theirs?” Nesta is breathing heavily now, unaware of Helion’s narrowed gaze, the power he is sending out to meet her own, the gentle probing.</p><p>         “Why do you care so much about who is and is not in my bed?” she has calmed a little now, cutting into him easily.</p><p>         “Honestly, sweetheart? I don’t.” he ignores her glare at the nickname and instead looks her up and down, taking in every inch of her “maybe I would have once, in what feels like another lifetime, but look at yourself. Look at what you have become” Nesta’s breathing has picked up again, her eyes squeezing shut to keep him out and he can tell that he is close, so close. Just one more solid twist of the dagger “even Elain couldn’t be bothered to defend you to Feyre.”</p><p>         “You’re lying” Nesta grits out, her breath practically ice as she speaks. Elain would always defend her, always be there for her.</p><p>         “Why do you think she was not at the house this morning? Coincidence?” Cassian’s eyes narrow and he shifts slightly to stand right in front of a massive pillar as he raises an invisible shield, as strong as he can possibly manage and prepares the final blow “even she can’t stand to be around you any more. She told Azriel that it might be easier if you just disappeared. That’s what finally got Feyre to order-”</p><p>         “LIAR” the voice that rips itself out of Nesta’s throat is not her own, and she moves not of her own volition when her hand comes up and sends a bolt of pure glittering, blindingly white power into Cassian’s chest. She is blinded by her own rage as he crashes back against the pillar, the sheer force of the impact turning the entire, solid marble and gold object into nothing more than flecks of powdered dust on the floor.</p><p>         Nesta is blinking rapidly as Cassian fights to pull himself into a seated position, breath coming raggedly. He forces his eyes to meet an intrigued Helion’s gaze and with the little breath he can muster Cassian spits “I told you”</p><p>         Helion only nods “indeed you did” he pauses, reigning his own power back into his body, surveying Nesta with a renewed sense of intrigue “it will take time, but I can work with this.”</p><p>         “Would someone tell me” Nesta grits out, finally back in her right mind “just what the <em>fuck</em> is going on”</p><p>         “Just a little test” Helion smiles warmly “when the commander here said that he thought I could help you I was skeptical, by all accounts your powers disappeared along with the cauldron. The handsome warrior assured me, however, that he knew how to get under your skin enough to prove that they were very much intact, and so they are.”</p><p>         “You <em>idiot</em>” Nesta turns to Cassian “I could have killed you!”</p><p>         “Careful Nes, I’ll start to think you care” Helion’s magic reaches out to Cassian, repairing the broken ribs and patching the scratches so that he can stand back on his feet “I knew what I was doing, I had a hell of a shield up.”</p><p>         Helion laughs yet again “you think that you were protected by only your own shield?” he shakes his head “I covered you with the strongest shield I could muster from the second you started speaking”</p><p>         “That’s impossible” Cassian breathes slowly “are you telling me that she-”</p><p>         “Blasted you right on your ass through the shields of a 500-year-old Illyrian warrior who wears 7 siphons and a 900-year-old High Lord? That is exactly what I am telling you”</p><p>         Nesta looks afraid for the first time in months “what… what does that mean?”</p><p>         Cassian is looking at her with the same concern, feeling like he might lose his breakfast, but Helion only offers a hundred watt smile and a suggestive wink “it means that you and I, my little power pilferer, are going to have such <em>incredible</em> fun together” Nesta’s eyes widen a little at his words “once you are seen to your rooms and clean up a little, that is” he snaps and a beautiful lesser fae appears behind him, materializing like Nuala and Cerridwen do. For perhaps the first time in her life Nesta has no words to respond, and she does not fight the amber-skinned woman as she leads her gently down the hall.</p><p>         “We have a few things to discuss before dinner, I would imagine” Helion turns back to Cassian.</p><p>         “I should really-”</p><p>         “You can quell revolutions in the morning, commander” Helion’s words have all the power of a High Lord “right now you are going to tell me everything you know about these powers and this female” he pauses, cocking his head “and then later, at dinner, <em>you</em> are going to explain to her why you contacted me. She must trust me if this is going to work”</p><p>         “Nesta doesn’t trust anyone” Cassian’s voice is bitterly resigned.</p><p>         Helion raises an eyebrow “and yet she arrived here practically asleep in your arms despite being hundreds of feet in the air.”</p><hr/><p>         Nesta had taken a bath that morning, but clearly this meant nothing to the female in front of her as she filled the giant copper tub with water and oils. From the look in the woman’s eyes as she removed her clothing, Nesta had no misgivings that she would get her dress or shoes back and she shuddered a little at the thought of being completely at the mercy of the High Lord of Day to provide her with clothing.</p><p>         “I am Nesta-”</p><p>         “I know” the half-there woman whose skin shimmered like topaz cut her off before Nesta can ask for her name. Her tone does not invite any conversation as she begins to carefully dry and curl Nesta’s hair, braiding half of it back into a crown around her head and letting the rest cascade down her back. Her hair is longer than it was before, Nesta notes absentmindedly at seeing it unbound for the first time in weeks. The gentle white-gold and diamond pins that the woman weaves into her braid feel too good for what Nesta has become. She has shunned luxury for so long, not wanting to feel silk sheets or diamond jewels when inside she is nothing but darkness and death. It is all hollow comforts anyway, the glittering palaces and silk tunics and overpriced spirits. Just hollow, empty, beautiful things that reminded her entirely too much of herself.</p><p>         Nesta knows that speaking such thoughts would not help her case with this lesser fae whono doubt has her orders. Instead she closes her eyes, grits her teeth and disassociate as the woman ties her into a flowing day-court gown and places glittering crystal shoes in front of her. The neckline on the dress is lower than she would ever choose, but the layer of sheer golden fabric over it provides enough modesty for her not to complain as she is dressed up like a doll for the High Lord. A powerful, beautiful prize to be sent to a dinner table, sit silently, and pretend to care about what is needed of her powers. The courts may be Day and Night, but their expectations of her are no different. At least here there is no family to disappoint.</p><hr/><p>         Cassian grumbled a little as Helion forced him into the deep golden shirt with too many buttons undone, exposing the black tattoos and sculpted muscle along his chest. The fine black pants at least were practical, but he knows how Helion works, and the vain High Lord of Day wanted to create a pretty male to dine with, should he be doing the Illyrian General such a favour.</p><p>         His complaints die on his tongue when she walks into the overly grand dining room. Nesta’s crystal shoes make a gentle click along the pure white of the floor as she enters tentatively. Cassian cannot bring himself to move from where he stands on the opposite wall, with a glass of whiskey in his hand, as he devours her form with his gaze. He had forgotten in the months that she has wallowed exactly what Nesta could look like. The soft champagne-coloured gown hugs every perfectly formed (if too-thin) curve of her body, glimmering beads cluster across every inch of her top as it sinks into a sinfully deep V, meeting the glowing belt at her waist. The beads start to cluster less and less closely together until the bottom inches of her legs are almost entirely bare before him, covered only in the same sheer golden fabric as the tops of her breasts and arms. The setting sun, he muses, must have been placed on a timer so that it could reflect exactly off of every inch of her as she entered the room. If the golden sun wasn't enough, the glowing fae light in the room bounces off of the diamonds in her hair to illuminate the shining gold even more.</p><p>         “If you don’t clamp your jaw shut and offer her a drink and an arm to her seat, commander, I will” Helion is only half-joking, and Cassian knows it. So he moves swiftly to her side.</p><p>         “You look well, considering” she says in a carefully calm voice, referencing her display of power earlier.</p><p>         “It will take a lot more than that to keep me down, sweetheart” Cassian’s voice is thick with casual teasing and easy confidence. It reminds Nesta of a simpler time.</p><p>         She nods her head a little, fae light bouncing off of every golden strand of hair “I suppose the High Lord’s shield certainly helped” the ease with which Nesta raises her gaze to Helion as she offers her careful respect and acknowledgement of his power makes Cassian think that perhaps it is Rhys’ poorly hidden disdain that makes her so repulsed by the idea of accepting his power, and not only that he is mated to her sister.</p><p>         “I certainly could not allow someone so pretty to die on my watch” Helion grins.</p><p>         Nesta doesn’t know if it is the calming presence of this High Lord, or the feeling that releasing her power has made her skin less tight, but she gives Helion a wry sort of smile “I had a similar thought, once.”</p><p>         Cassian’s jaw drops again, shocked by her acknowledgement of their moment on the battlefield. He can practically feel the phantom touch of her lips against his, but he just gives an easy smile, prepared to play the same game as she is “and that’s why I know it is safe to leave her with you, Helion.”</p><p>         Nesta looks up at him with a thousand questions in her blue-grey eyes “perhaps we should sit” the High Lord speaks, waving his arm so that a huge variety of dishes appear on the too-large table. Cassian extends his arm, which Nesta soundly ignores as she glides to the far end of the table, sitting to the right of the head seat. Helion raises his eyebrow at Cassian who gives him a scowl in return, but settles into the seat on the High Lord’s left nonetheless.</p><p>         “If I am to remain here and not go to the mountains, then how are you managing to not have your knees buckle at the mere thought of disobeying your rulers, General?” Nesta’s voice is calm and sweet- well, as sweet as Nesta’s voice can ever be- but her words are barbed.</p><p>         “Rhys is my brother before he is anything else, and he had a bad plan” Cassian shrugs “I have to go to the Illyrian mountains, there is unrest that must be managed. He and Feyre thought that it would be good for you to come with me-”</p><p>         “and you disagreed?”</p><p>         “I certainly agreed that something had to be done about your bullshit behavior and jackass attitude”</p><p>         Nesta narrows her eyes at him as he shoves a piece of venison into his mouth “and you know me so well that-”</p><p>         “Yes” his voice is steady, and it does not invite questions “like it or not, admit it or not, yes. I know you, and I knew that training to fight in the Steppes was not what you needed. Training to control whatever the hell you threw into my chest this afternoon, that is what you need. So, I wrote to Helion.”</p><p>         “I remembered you, of course.” Helion speaks for the first time since the meal began “the beautiful thief with ice caught in her gaze, how could I forget. The raw power that hums inside of your veins, I can feel it. I could feel it at that meeting, I could feel it on the battlefield, and I can feel it now”</p><p>         “Can you-” Nesta looks up at him, steadying her voice and straightening her spine “they call you spell-cleaver. Can you get rid of it?”</p><p>         “Why on earth would you want to do that?” he asks, eyes trained on hers.</p><p>         “I wanted to make the cauldron give something back” she admits “I wanted to cripple and break it, I refused to let it shove me into this new body without <em>taking</em> something from it as well” Cassian’s eyes are trained on the two, clearly so in their own conversation. He can’t remember a time Nesta has spoken so openly “I did not realize then what I was taking. I still don’t know what it is, but I do know that it is-”</p><p>         “All-consuming” Helion finishes for her “it is all you can think of, all you can focus on, it feels like there is too much power roiling around inside of you for even the immortal flesh of a high fae to contain” Nesta nods, wide-eyed and Helion sighs, shaking his head “so you numb it, any way you can.” He turns his head to Cassian for the first time “you should have brought her to me a long time ago. Before the war, before any of it. The second she left that cauldron Rhysand should have been at my doorstep with <em>both</em> of them” his voice is rising, there is an anger in his tone that Cassian has rarely seen.</p><p>         “Rhys was a little pre-occupied with his mate being stolen into enemy territory” Cassian defends.</p><p>         “And who was preoccupied with his mate’s newly made sisters?” Helion growls “you saw it didn’t you, Cassian” Helion using his true name knocks Cassian back as if he had actually delivered a blow to his chest. Helion does not use names, he croons and purrs and whispers pet names to everyone. “What she is describing. Stealing from the cauldron. That is not a quiet affair, it is not something you miss. You felt it the second she left that cauldron”</p><p>         “He was practically dead when I was made” Nesta defends Cassian weakly and he is shocked. Nesta only shrugs, there may be things that she blames him for, but that is not one of them.</p><p>         “I saw it” he admits with a tight jaw “I will never forget what I saw that day if I live until the end of time, but dropping her off in an unfamiliar territory alone and forcing her to confront powers when she refused to even accept that she was no longer human was <em>not</em> what Nesta needed”</p><p>         “I did not realize that <em>you</em> got to decide what I need” her voice is cold, unwavering.</p><p>         Cassian looks at her “judging by how you locked yourself away in that library and then in that shitty apartment in order to manage your feelings, being pushed to hone powers by a High Lord would not have been the most productive option” the knowing, condescending tilt of his head is what sets Nesta off. The look that he has been giving her for months, practically screaming at her that how she managed the aftermath of the war was not acceptable, that he got to decide how she reacted.</p><p>         “I was in a war, General” she spits his title at him as though the word is acid on her tongue, feeling the dam inside of her snap open.  She cuts him off before he can break in with the obvious, if he wanted to do this then he was going to listen, “we were all in a war. I know that. How could you not think that I fucking KNOW THAT” she shakes her head, because sometimes it shocks her just how little this entire merry inner circle thinks of her, even Cassian, who is supposed to be different, who was <em>supposed</em> to be on her side. She doens't know exactly why he was supposed to be on her side, it is not as though either of them had ever said such words, but... he was supposed to be on her side. She knew that, more than any other member of that court, he was supposed to be there for her, but he just ignored her and looked at her with that same disdainful look that they all have, that look of annoyance at being stuck with her because she is the High lady's sister. And they wonder why she doesn’t want to join them “you are 500 years old” she grits her teeth “you are a born and bred warrior. You were made for war, you’ve seen it before, and you are always prepared to see it again” she holds up her hand as he again tries to break in “I know that it wasn’t easy. I know you haven’t always been what you are now. I know that you and everyone else in your little gang that holds themselves together with ribbons of molten brass and codependence has had hard lives and come out the other side. I get it, you are strong, pull yourself up by your bootstraps kind of people.” She pauses,</p><p>“but I have been in my own wars, and I was not made for it. I was human and young. I was born into a world where my biggest problem was what dress to wear, and then that life was ripped away from me. I understand that I am pathetic to <em>you </em>for how I handled it, but I survived in the world that I was in. I was ripped away from everything I knew once, and then I was in a war with my own mind when Feyre was taken from me and the glamour didn’t work. I was in a war with the Queens and all of you fae barging into my home, threatening Elain’s happiness. I was in a war with the cauldron, and then I was in a war with Hybern, and now I’m in a war with my own body” Nesta levels Cassian with her gaze, practically daring him to interrupt her.</p><p>         “What I am trying to say” she continues on a deathly quiet voice “is that you may be sick of my anger or my actions, but I am sick of the holier-than-thou attitude of every last one of you!” the fire that Cassian has been begging to see is just brimming inside of her eyes and despite the fact that she is hurling insults, his heart hasn’t felt so full in months. “I am holding myself together the only way I know how” it is not a slow moving, whispered confession, it is not a statement that makes her tear up and fall into his arms for support. It is merely a fact. “All of you drinking together and meandering through life in dysfunctional love triangles or sequestering in cabins or smiling through the pain doesn’t make you any better than me and I’m just so<em> SICK</em> of the judgement.” Nesta narrows her eyes “Just because I don’t love and fight and cope and live the same way that all of you do, does not mean that I don’t feel things, that I don’t care.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I think Nesta feels everything- sees too much; sees and feels it all. She burns with it</em>
</p><p> </p><p>         Feyre’s words from months ago flash though his mind and Cassian shakes his head, feeling it all click into place. Helion is deathly quiet as Nesta and Cassian hold each other’s gazes, seeming to have an entire conversation across the table without speaking any words. It is Cassian who breaks the silence. “Do you trust me?”</p><p>         “I think that I did once” her tone is not cutting, but it is not quiet and sad either. She is talking to herself, not him.</p><p>         Helion scoffs a little “and what about me? Can you trust me?”</p><p>         Nesta looks at him with an appraising gaze “do I have a choice?”</p><p>         “Not unless you want this one” he gestures to Cassian “to turn into dust along with the next pillar you knock him into.”</p><p>         Nesta pauses just long enough for Helion to bark out a laugh as she surveys the General “if we are going to do this” Nesta is addressing Helion “then I don’t want him here.”</p><p>         “As I said” Cassian is unfazed by her dismissal, used to it at this point “I have to go to the mountains. So don’t worry sweetheart, I am leaving you with Helion.”</p><p>         “I suppose my dreams of tempting you both into my bedroom this evening will have to go unrealized” Helion sighs into his glass.</p><p>         That is Nesta’s cue to stand, Cassian notes that she has barely touched her plate. She does not say so much as a goodnight or a goodbye as she strides to the door that leads to her rooms, the hollow click of her heels like a gunshot every step that she takes farther and farther away from him.</p><p>         “That one certainly keeps a man on their toes, doesn’t she” Helion muses, leaning back in his chair; both men watch the gentle sway of Nesta’s hips as she leaves the room.</p><p>         “That is one way to put it” Cassian sighs, wings flaring behind him.</p><p>         “It is difficult to watch one that you love suffer” Helion nods in a strangely earnest sort of way for him, and something about the way he says it makes Cassian too tired to refute the claim. “It can easily turn from hurt to anger. You are angry with her and she is angry with you. A piece of advice, commander. See it from her perspective. Look at the last months as a human in the wrong body, feel every ounce of power that used to drive you mad before those siphons started to hone it, and then fear for everything and everyone that you have ever known and cared about.”</p><p>         Cassian’s nod is hard “I should get to the camps” he stands, wings spreading behind him “thank you, for helping her.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Looking Back, Looking Forward</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I was inspired to just get a move on by how well people seemed to respond to this story. I really wasn't expecting it, but thank you to everyone who had a kind word, I hope the rest of the story moving forward doesn't disappoint.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 2:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>Cassian is laying on top of a bundle of fur blankets on the giant bed in his tent, staring up at the rough canvas 'roof'. He knows that he should have barged in to take over one of the nicer cabins and demanded the respect of his position, but it is only him, and he is exhausted. He has had enough fights today. Plus, there is a familiar sort of comfort in this tent. It is certainly more luxurious than anything he knew at a truly young age, but it still makes him feel grounded, more himself and less Rhys’ General.</p><p>Helion’s words bounce around inside of Cassian’s mind and he can’t stop thinking about how long he has lived and yet how the span of just a few months could change him so entirely. There is a part of him that wishes he could go back to the relatively carefree days of drinking at Rita's with Mor and slipping into bed with any random pretty female that he took a liking to. Except that then he realizes how Nesta was one of those females for other males, and he knows that the hurt he feels isn't fair or warranted. She doesn't owe him anything, and she never asked him to give up other females, he just had. It felt wrong now. He knows that there is something between them, he felt it the second he met her even as a mortal. He felt it time and time again. She is just... his, and he is hers.</p><p>When Cassian pictures Nesta he does not think of the battlefield when everyone was tired and near-death, he does not think of his declarations or <em>her</em> body shielding his. He does not think about how he nearly died with this woman. No, he thinks about soft hands bandaging his swollen wrist in a frozen war tent; he thinks about those same hands, mud-flecked and worked over clutching bones and stones to find the cauldron. He thinks about the moments that she allowed him to step right beside her, put his hand on her lower back or fist himself into the material of her skirts as he pushed her behind him. He thinks of telling her that nothing could hurt her in that moment, of his promise that nothing would so long as he was there. He thinks of the moments that Nesta Archeron looked at him and he looked back and there was nothing but safety in their gazes, the silent promises they made to each other- and the ones they spoke out loud.</p><p>He thinks about the incredible strength in those soft gestures, about how high the walls around her heart are and how deeply she cares, about the power that must have been ripping her apart this entire time, and how she said nothing. He thinks about her offering to distract Hybern on the battlefield, and everything that he used to see in her. Everything that he never needed a High Lord to tell him for him to know.</p><p>How had so much changed in only a few months? He would have died for her, he would have given anything just to hold her and know that she was safe; had he truly let a few months of drinking and men shift his view so easily? Was he really so fickle that he could look at her so differently, that he avoided her entirely? Part of his anger was the men, the realization that she would barely <em>speak</em> to him, but would jump into bed with random high fae at any given moment. He is not so evolved even after half a millennium of life that he could say it did not bother him, watching her give herself so easily to these men.</p><p>         <em>Except that she didn’t </em>a traitorous voice reasoned in his head, one that had been slipping through his resolve to be angry at her for months now. No, she didn’t give herself to anyone. Those men got nothing but the enjoyment of her body. They never met the flames in her eyes or went to battle with the arrows that shot off of her tongue. They never experienced the all-consuming grief or terrifying calm that truly defines Nesta Archeron. They did not see the worlds, universes that could exist in her smile or read every emotion that roiled beneath her skin like flames fighting to burst out. They bedded a hollow shell of the woman that he knows, and she allowed it to numb herself, to gain pleasure in the midst of the pain. She coped the only way she could manage, and he had condemned her for it. He had stopped loving her for it.</p><p>         Well, he had tried. There is a part of him that knows he never stopped loving her, no matter how far they both tried to push the other one away, no matter how angry he became with her, how much he wanted to just shake her until she became her old self again. There were so many things about Nesta that other people cowered from; the barbed replies and withering glares, but he loved her for every hard retort, every insult. He loved her for the ice in her gaze and the rod that held her spine straight as a soldier. There were so many things that he would count himself lucky to ‘deal with’, but this resigned, empty-eyed shell is not something he can handle. He would rather never lay eyes on her again than see the woman he loves turn into paper and glass before his eyes. </p><p>         A loud, demanding knock on the pole of his tent shakes Cassian from his reverie and he realizes that dawn is only a few hours away from bursting across the skies of the Illyrian camp. He stands and flares his wings to their full size, dwarfing the small confines of the space as he prepares to face off against the first of many who will question his power. Cassian banishes Nesta from his mind as best he can. He needs to focus on the task before him. No distractions.</p><p>         “Lord Devlon, always a pleasure, though less so at such an hour”</p><p>         The overbearing commander takes Cassian in, looking him up and down “I heard you fly in after dusk came on. Why are you here?”</p><p>         “It is my job to command these camps, is it not?”</p><p>         The man’s eyes narrow “If you are here to try and offer condolences on the losses from you High Lord then you are wasting your time”</p><p>         “The Illyrians are warriors at heart. We do not hold vigils and sulk around when battle takes from us what we train our whole lives to give it”  Cassian pauses, taking in the quiet acknowledgement on Devlon’s face, knowing that he is relieved at least that Cassian remembers what it is to be an Illyrian, is not weakened by love and family in the way that Rhys and Az are. Pathetic, he thinks, for these people to see those things as weakness, but they do.</p><p>         “We did lose a lot of good warriors though, and it is time to rebuild our ranks” Cassian’s voice is strong, commanding. It does not invite questions. “Less came out of the Rite last Spring than I’d have hoped, even fewer truly conquered it. We have a few months before the next Blood Rite and I will be visiting the camps myself to train the novices.” To influence them, more like. The young warriors were Cassian’s best shot. He and Rhys had decided to build his plan around the Rite a month ago. Get to them young, the younger ones already worshiped him, believed in raw power and what he had done on the battlefield rather than his birth.</p><p>         “Considerably fewer took the Rite last year than expected because of the just ended war” Devlon defends gruffly.</p><p>         “Even so, I will be examining training. Not to worry, Devlon. We come to Windhaven enough that so long as the girls remain in the training ring I haven’t many misgivings” he pauses “I imagine I will spend the majority of my time in the Ironcrest camp” Devlon’s eyes go wide, filling with barely concealed rage. Ironcrest is a known enemy of Windhaven, and the center of the majority of Illyrian unrest. Whatever Cassian may think of Devlon, he keeps his warriors under control.</p><p>         “You will have quite the battle in that camp.”</p><p>         “Then it is a lucky thing that I excel in battles” his siphons flair a little, a careful reminder that Devlon may be Lord commander of this camp, but Cassian is the General of the entirety of the Night Court’s armies, and for good reason. The man only nods, closing the flap of Cassian’s tent and walking into the night.</p><p>         Cassian does not return to his bed. He begins to dress for the day and reaches for his sword. If word of his intentions and rumours of the fear that should be felt is going to reach Kallon- the degenerate whelp son of the Ironcrest Lord who apparently delights in stirring up malcontent- then he will have to be the first and last one in the fighting ring. The war may not have ended long ago, but it is always useful to remind those who may rebel exactly what the General of the Night Court Armies is made of.</p><hr/><p>         Nesta wakes up, as she usually does, with the rising sun. Even when she was out until all hours of the night, she has never been able to shake the habit. She would not always get out of bed with its rise, but she would kick out whatever male had found his way into her bed the night before, if he was still there. Waking up alone is a strange feeling, waking up against golden silk sheets is even stranger. Nesta yearns for the shabby, dark, quiet of her ramshackle apartment in the worst corner of Velaris. Of course, Feyre would not consider that a lifestyle that is acceptable for the High Lady’s sister, but it was the only thing that ever felt like it was her own. Luxury had come and gone in Nesta’s life, it is not something that she relies on or ties herself to. Not anymore. Besides, the less pretty things that are around her, the less risk of breaking them.</p><p>         That same half-invisible and determinately silent woman appears in Nesta’s room along with the sun. She supposes that is not surprising, this being the Day Court and all. She places a tray on the table beside Nesta’s large bed “I will return in an hour to help you dress. His Lordship will meet you in the Eastern library.”</p><p>         Nesta nods slowly and the woman disappears again. She reaches for the mug of tea, standing to open the heavy curtains. Her thin nightgown would have made her cold back in Velaris, but either the day court is naturally harnessing the power of the sun to remain a perfectly temperate climate, or Helion has set up a magical temperature control within his palace. Her money is on the latter.</p><p>         Nesta sips her tea as she takes in the quiet beauty of the Day Court. The sun is bursting in beautiful dawn pinks and golds across lush green mountains. She knows from flying in yesterday that the palace is high, high above the rest of the court, glimmering gold like a second sun in the sky. From this vantage point she can see the entirety of what must be the capital city. She makes a note to ask Helion the name of the city later. It is beautiful, full of white homes with little buttercup yellow roofs. Giant marble libraries and shops line either side of a river that runs right through the middle of the city. The places where she sees golden bridges running across perfectly blue water make her want to sigh. Even the sky seems brighter here, favoured by the sun, and perhaps it is.</p><p> Thin strands of ivy and giant trees housing impossibly thin branches that flow out with tiny white and yellow flowers sway in the gentle breeze, and on the other side she can see miles and miles of golden crops planted and being tended to by flying lesser fae with the same shimmering amber skin as the woman who brought her breakfast.  Nesta knows that the Day Court is large, not as large as the Night Court which it borders, but large none the less, and from where she is standing, looking out of this giant window, she cannot help but think that the hills look endless. She cannot imagine that not so far north of the lush, colourful mountains she looks at now are the dark, freezing, miserable Illyrian Steppes.</p><p>         Nesta growls a little at the fact that she simply cannot banish that Illyrian brute from her mind. How dare he insult her as he did, and then pick her so easily up into his arms and drop her off exactly where she needs to be. The nerve of him to know what she needed when her own family didn’t, when even she did not. It is infuriating, she thinks as she takes a sip of her tea. It is warm and bright, rich but sweet like honey. It warms every inch of her insides, infusing pure sunlight with her blood as she drains the cup much too quickly. Whatever Helion may or may not be able to teach her, she did need to get away from the Night Court, that much is certain.</p><p>         “What is your name?” Nesta asks carefully when the lesser fae returns.</p><p>         “Alydhia” she says, hands going immediately to Nesta’s hair, braiding the front back off of her face and leaving the rest loose behind her as she had done the night before.</p><p>         “I normally put it all up” she admits.</p><p>         “Why? It is so beautiful, kissed by sunlight” Nesta feels her cheeks heat up a little as she looks into the ornate glass mirror, seeing for the first time what this female who worships the day must see. Indeed, her dark gold hair with its brighter and duller streaks could be the result of lazy days under the sun rather than simply a natural shade that is wasted on her, who spends her days cloistered in taverns or curled up reading.</p><p>         “Alright” she nods gently, and the female smiles for the first time that Nesta can remember. The dress that she slips over Nesta’s head reminds her of the goddesses that humans used to believe in. Pure white silk that flows to the ground in gently pleated waves, a small slit up to her knee over the right leg, and thin straps braided at her shoulders. There is no defined waist in the gown, but the neckline dips just below the hollow of her throat to create a simple V falling from the straps. Alydhia pulls out what looks like a long metal ribbon of pure gold and wraps it gently, twisting either end into the straps of the dress, forming a type of necklace that skims the base of her neck before wrapping it loosely under her breasts and multiple times around her waist. She ties the 2 ends of the strange necklace/belt into a knot at her left hip, letting the ends dangle gently for a few inches. She places a pair of golden strappy sandals in front of Nesta, the colour perfectly matches the belt and as she steps into them the female ties the straps all the way up her calf.</p><p>         The woman… female who looks back at Nesta in the mirror cannot possibly be her. In her human days she would be immediately uncomfortable by the amount of skin exposed, even in the Night Court where it was often cold outside of the temperature-controlled palace and where she did not want to draw attention to herself, she would have shunned something like this. She had no interest in Mor’s fashion advice or in putting time into what she would wear every morning, so she dressed much like she did as a human.</p><p>Nesta can’t deny that this fabric feels amazing against her skin, a spark of her old vanity flashes inside of her and that makes her smile a little. She didn’t realize that she still had it in her to care about silly things like clothes.  </p><p>         Alydhia smiles a little, as if satisfied by her own handiwork. She exits the room and Nesta takes it as a hint to follow her. Every new corner of this massive palace surprises her in a new and intriguing way. As they enter what her companion calls the ‘East Wing’ Nesta can’t help but gape a little at the curved ceiling and entrance, they are at least 50 feet tall like everything else in this massive sun palace, but it is the tiles leading up the wall and into a mural of the sun at the ceiling that truly captures her attention, each individual tile looks hand painted with liquid gold. The chandeliers are circular and reflect golden fae light off of every surface, making the tiles reflect off of each other. The brocade curtains that cover high windows catch her attention briefly until she is standing in front of a massive mahogany door that can only lead to the library. With a courteous nod Alydhia disappears into nothing and Nesta takes a deep breath in, pressing against the doors.</p><p>         They fly open before her and Nesta thinks she might cry at the sight that is hidden behind those doors. Cassian was not exaggerating the size of the libraries. The one that she currently stands in has ceiling to floor bookshelves covering every square inch of it, and looking up past the dark wood mahogany railings and posts she sees that it is at least 3 floors. The ceiling has been replaced with glass so that the entire room is illuminated and bathed in the bright golds and white of pure sunlight. So many books, more than she could read in a lifetime… well, a human one at least.</p><p>         There are windows in the corner of the circular room as well, with plush white velvet couches and reading benches. As well as a small table with a glimmering tea set, and there, in an overly stuffed velour armchair, a book balanced lightly in his lap, is the High Lord of Day.</p><p>         “From the way the Commander described you, I half expected to need to drag you from your bed myself” his voice is light, eyes barely lifting from his book as he regards her.</p><p>         “Cassian has always seen the worst parts of me, I suppose”</p><p>         “And I have no doubt you delighted in revealing them to him” Nesta looks a little taken aback.</p><p>         “Are you trying to make me angry so I explode power again?”</p><p>         Helion laughs “no, I am far too attached to this library to engage in a sparring match with you in it.”</p><p>         “It is beautiful” she admits.</p><p>         “As are you” for once his voice is not flirtatious, only honest “the fashion of the Day Court suits you” he nods his head appreciatively “please, join me.”</p><p>         Nesta walks tentatively to sit in a chair across from the High Lord, back straight and shoulders tense. Tightly coiled, ready to lash out at any moment.</p><p>         “Why don’t you start by telling me about the cauldron-”</p><p>         “No” her voice is a growl, eyes trained ferociously on his.</p><p>         Helion merely nods, eyes returning to his book. Nesta stares at her hands for a few moments, then turns her attention back to him “So-”</p><p>         The book slams shut “I cannot do anything for you until I know everything. If you do not plan to tell me that today, then you can either grab a book and read or you are free to go”</p><p>         Nesta blinks once, twice in pure shock at the command in his voice “I don’t talk about the cauldron. Not even to my sisters”</p><p>         “Perhaps that is a part of the problem” Helion leans forward, elbows on his knees “do you even know what your powers truly are?”</p><p>Nesta shakes her head side to side “I overheard Rhys and Feyre speaking once, and they think it could be death. That I took some sort of old-world death power from the cauldron”</p><p>Helion raises a brow “I would have sensed death on you if that were the case. No, I am afraid that whatever is lurking beneath your skin is going to be far more complicated, not so easily defined or managed”</p><p>“I can’t” she looks down, wringing her fingers “I mean even if I wanted to talk about the cauldron, I wouldn’t know where to start” a shudder runs itself through her body.</p><p>“Would you <em>show</em> me?”</p><p>“I thought that only Rhys and-”</p><p>“I am not a Daemati. I cannot control your mind or thoughts, but if you put your walls down I will be able to <em>see.</em> I can’t alter anything, so you needn’t worry about that.”</p><p>Nesta is not sure why, but there is something inside of her that is screaming to nod and let her walls down. Something deep inside of her trusts this man, and Nesta is not someone who trusts easily. She can think of nothing else that she has left to lose by refusing, so one by one she lifts the locks that keep her mind sealed off from the world.</p><p>Nesta does not have walls around her mind, she has gates. Tall, barbed, iron and steel gates. She flings the doors open one by one and then she can feel Helion inside of her mind. He is right, it feels different than when Feyre entered her thoughts. He does not see out of her eyes or thread himself into the fabric of her mind, he simply… looks, feels, sees.</p><p>Helion slams back in his chair after a moment, taking in a massive breath as though being inside of her mind was suffocating him “Oh my dear, that is not death. Not even close” He takes another breath, looking carefully at the female in front of him, head swimming with the things he saw and felt and <em>heard</em> inside of her mind. “That” he says, voice deadly calm “is <em>life</em>.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So there was some set-up to get through in this one I know, but I also want to give a fair warning right now that Nesta and Cassian will not interact in every chapter of this story. They'll be in each other's thoughts and brought together enough, but they both have an individual journey to be going on before they fully intertwine.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Waiting for... what?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok, this is an angsty one, but there was some big stuff that had to get just chucked out on the table before anyone can even think of healing or a relationship in my opinion. I hope you guys enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 3</strong>
</p><p>         “It makes perfect sense if you think about it, dear.” Helion's voice is calm as he explains his thoughts to Nesta, who just sits silently in front of him, as white as her chair “the cauldron is the source of all life, in the process of giving you immortal life you took too much. Made it ‘give something back’ as you put it”</p><p>         “I don’t, but how-”</p><p>         “Death is easy, peaceful, calm even. You know at least 2 people who have died and they both say that they fought to stay with their mate, to remain tethered to this world. No one fights to die, even the world-weariest face is calm and finds its peace in death” he pauses, ensuring the girl is following him “but life… life itself starts out with blood and screaming and crying. We enter this world naked and crying and afraid; and we fight out way through it every day. We claw and scratch and <em>fight</em> our own little wars every day that we live. It is carnal, brutal. You scratched a piece of life right out of the cauldron” his voice is mystified, as if she is the most impressive creature he has ever seen.</p><p>         “I think I need a drink. Or 6.” Nesta is surprised when a glass filled with amber liquid appears in front of her, but she is not about to complain as she drinks the entire thing in one gulp.</p><p>         “Interesting” Helion’s eyes narrow. Nesta raises an eyebrow in a silent question and 2 more glasses appear in front of her, both more full than the last one “leave your walls down and drink both of those. I have a… theory”</p><p>         “You have a theory that involves getting me drunk?”</p><p>         “Is that a problem?”</p><p>         “Not at all. In fact, it’s the first fucking good idea I’ve ever heard come out of a High Lord’s mouth” the second cup is burning its way down her throat before Helion can even laugh.</p><hr/><p>The last thing that Cassian expects after a long day of muddy fighting is to see an immaculately dressed emissary sitting on his bed in his tent as though the other male owns it.</p><p>“Let me guess, a message from Helion?”</p><p>“A summons, actually” The sound of crashing steel and growled insults are still clanging around in Cassian's ears and his muscles are screaming at him. The last thing he wants to do is get into it with Nesta again.</p><p>“I just left that place. He can’t send a lackey for me every time Nesta is difficult. I warned him about-”</p><p>“I think you will want to come for this.” the male's voice is soft but stern, and something in his eyes seems almost mystified. Annoying as it is, it's enough to pique Cassian's interest.</p><p>He throws down his sword with a few muttered curses and reaches out a muddy hand so that the man can winnow them away “I’m only coming because Helion’s baths are far superior”</p><p>“And you could certainly use one.”</p><hr/><p>Once Cassian is clean and again dressed up like a doll for the high lord he is escorted to an ornate library.</p><p>         The sight before Cassian is one he will never forget. Nesta looks radiant in the Day Court fashion, and something twists inside of him seeing that she looks to so perfectly fit into this room, a library of gold and mahogany with sunlight above to dance off of her hair. She should have been here from the beginning. She didn't belong freezing in an Illyrian camp or wasting away in Velaris. It is almost physically painful to see just how <em>comfortable</em> she looks, leaning casually on one arm, speaking easily and openly to Helion. From what Cassian can tell, she is answering his questions and then his eyes narrow in on the brandy in her hand and he sighs loudly enough that both of the other occupants of the room turn to look at him.</p><p>Nesta’s previously soft, relaxed expression hardens immediately, the gates of her mind slamming shut and locking behind themselves “what are you doing here?” she spits. Maybe Nesta didn't need to be away from Velaris, maybe she just needed to be away from him.</p><p>“I asked him to be here, he is part of the… experiment” Helion grins wickedly and to Cassian’s surprise Nesta merely glares before leaning back again, addressing the High Lord and not him.</p><p>“He doesn’t like it when I drink” Nesta slurs a little, venom still in her tone “so you just tell him that this was your command, oh High Lord of sunshine” Nesta throws her arm out, taking another sip from the glass. Helion only observes her with casual amusement “actually you know what, that isn’t true” she sets her glass down, crossing her legs, the slit widening to reveal a few extra inches of pale skin as she does so. She leans back in the chair a little, placing more weight on her right arm, which sits on the plush armrest as she catches him with her gaze “I don’t think it’s the drinking. He and Feyre and Mor probably drink just as much as I do, they just can’t stand the fact that I do it alone, because it means that I don’t need them and they cannot handle a broken person that doesn’t need them to glue her back together.”</p><p>Nesta’s eyes are glazed over and her head lulls a bit where it rests on her hand, but Cassian can tell that she really thinks what she is saying is true. “Is that what you think? That we’re all pissed because you want to be alone?” he rolls his eyes</p><p>“Well give me another reason”</p><p>“maybe it’s the shitty attitude, run-down apartment, seedy taverns-”</p><p>“mmm” Nesta nods, mock seriousness taking over her face “so the manner of my drinking is not high class enough for you” she takes a dramatic gasp in “I am an embarrassment to my High Lady sister” her gaze finds him again and she smiles a little, bare arms opening to gesture to her glass “well now I am drinking spirits the colour of sunlight out of crystal glasses provided by a High Lord himself, so you can run along and report to Feyre that the ‘Nesta problem’ has been solved” she nods her head resolutely, taking another sip from her glass and humming in relaxed pleasure.</p><p>“Unless you plan to kick me out as well, Helion?” her eyes are wide, a touch beseeching in an entirely un-Nesta-like way that Cassian would almost think is dangerously flirtatious if the air wasn’t thick with her sarcasm.</p><p>“You are welcome here as long as you wish, dear” the High Lord smiles indulgently, he can’t imagine he would be upset with the beautiful, amusing woman in front of him even if it hadn’t been his direct actions that put her in this state. Every second that he was inside of her head, exploring those tendrils of power has only left him more intrigued, she certainly won’t be leaving any time soon “we have only just begun to scrape the surface of your powers”</p><p>Cassian grits his teeth, jaw tight “I do have important matters to be attending to, so I sincerely hope there is a reason you brought me here other than to be berated by a drunk woman for no reason.”</p><p>“I feel like I just gave you several reasons” Nesta scoffs into her glass at the same time that Helion says</p><p>“I did” his face turns serious “I need you to pull a different strong emotion out of her, not anger. If my guess is correct anger is that only thing that has ever manifested her powers. I’ve been trying for hours and I can’t get to the point I need.”</p><p>“I keep on telling him, anger <em>is </em>my only emotion” Nesta shrugs, sulking back in her chair a little.</p><p>“and <em>I </em>keep on telling her that I don’t believe that for one second” Helion gestures for Cassian to sit and he carefully perches on a white bench between the two of them “have you ever had power build up inside of you so tightly that you might just go insane if you can’t let it out?”</p><p>“Before I had my siphons, I suppose.”</p><p>Helion nods “as a High Lord, we have to do little feats of magic, just to send the power out, so it doesn’t boil over” he gestures towards Nesta “she has had the cauldron’s very essence and power of life swimming inside of her, unreleased and untrained since the end of the war” Cassian’s eyes widen a little “the alcohol pushes it down. The more she drinks the less power I can detect, it’s like a healing salve for a cut. It won’t sew the skin back together, but it will numb the pain, for a time while the healer works” he pauses “Nesta has been healing <em>herself</em> for months now.”</p><p>“And apparently I am <em>not</em> very good at it” she grumbles. She already had her reaction to this revelation 2 hours and 4 drinks ago. Why Cassian needed to be dragged into the situation is beyond her.</p><p>“So, what does that mean?”</p><p>“It means that I need to show her how to release the power more slowly, how to hone it and control it so that it does not overwhelm her, but I can only do that if she shows me all of it”</p><p>“I let you into my head, what more could you need to see?”</p><p>“I need to see what happens when you release the rest of it. This power isn’t some blind angry ability to hurt and kill, there is more there. You have just only ever <em>released</em> the angry parts” he explains again and Nesta just sighs. Helion turns to Cassian “this is where you come in. I tried to talk about the battle, that just mad her angry.”</p><p>“Hybern was a piece of shit and I tore his head off, what else would I feel about that?”</p><p>“I tried to talk about the cauldron, angry.”</p><p>“Oh the thing that is causing me all of the problems and made me a damn fae in the first place?” she scowls.</p><p>“I tried to talk about her sister, angry.”</p><p>“She literally kicked me out of her court a day ago of course I’m pissed.”</p><p>“Did you try Elain?” Cassian asks hesitantly</p><p>“He did” Nesta narrows her eyes “then I got mad at him for daring to bring her up.”</p><p>“So that didn’t help either” Helion runs a hand over his face “you see what I mean? I even tried to get her to talk about sex thinking that maybe carnal pleasure might get us somewhere, but nothing. No emotion at all.”</p><p>Cassian’s jaw clenches “well I certainly don’t know anything else to say to her that you haven’t”</p><p>"That's what I said" Nesta looks straight ahead, forcing her face to remain devoid of all emotion.</p><p>“Bullshit” Helion spits "if you want me to help her, then you need to buck up too, Cassian.”</p><p>“That isn’t his strong suit” Nesta mumbles drunkenly from the chair, looking down into her glass. Cassian’s eyes widen in shock at her simple accusation.</p><p>“What is that supposed to mean?” he growls.</p><p>“Careful” Helion breaks in, “not angry”</p><p>“It means” Nesta continues, voice deathly calm “that you like to say pretty words that you don’t mean”</p><p>Cassian takes a deep breath, trying to calm himself “Nesta, I really do not know what you are talking about.”</p><p>She looks up at him incredulously “why do you think that I moved out of the townhouse?”</p><p>“You needed space” he answers quickly.</p><p>Nesta shakes her head, disgust on her features “I got sick and tired of sitting around that place watching Feyre and Rhysand practically joined at the hip and that red-headed male that is in love with Elain hanging around so desperate for any glimpse of her, while you couldn’t be bothered to come and say 2 words to me, even after everything we went through” her voice is calm but icy cold “you like to pretend that I scorned you, that my <em>attitude</em> is the problem, but you did not even try to talk to me until <em>weeks</em> after the final battle.”</p><p>“Nesta, I-”</p><p>“You had to go to the camps. You had to be with your people, and I understand that, but you couldn’t even say goodbye? From the second you realized we were going to live you fell between Mor and Azriel again. Even on that battlefield, they were who you clung to.”</p><p>“They have been my family for 500 years, Nesta.”</p><p>“You were <em>avoiding</em> me” she hisses “you regretted what happened, which you could have at least told me, but instead you just limped away with <em>them</em>. I was ready to die with you and you left me standing alone on a battlefield next to my father’s dead body.”</p><p>“You had Elain” he defends carefully and she just stares. Cassian can feel the full intensity of her glare, as though she is screaming at him. That stare may as well be her yelling inside of his head to give her a real answer “I didn’t abandon you Nesta, I was <em>angry</em>” Cassian admits, finally admits “I was angry at you, because you called me out of the sky and I was angry at myself because I let your voice break my concentration, I let you take me away from everything else. I was angry that my men died, and I survived.” He pauses, looking at Nesta, who is staring at her hands. He hates this, he never wanted to tell her any of this. It isn’t her fault and he doesn’t blame her, but gods had he been angry, he had felt so utterly useless, he certainly wasn’t a male deserving of her, let alone one who could be the rock she needed in that moment “I needed time, to deal with that on my own-”</p><p>“And so you did” Nesta says quietly, cutting him off and setting her glass down on the table in front of her as she meets Cassian’s gaze “the battle did not break me, Cassian. You did. That moment when I stood with Feyre and Elain as we burned my father’s body. Broken as I was, I heard these heavy, ragged footsteps and I thought you had come. In that second I knew that it would be okay, that we would figure it out.” She pauses, staring at her hands as though she can see the scene unfolding in front of her. Cassian knows what her next words are going to be, but they still hurt.</p><p> “It wasn’t you though, it was Lucien. Then Feyre returned to Rhys and I stood out there, staring at that scorched piece of earth, waiting.” She does not look at him as she speaks, and she would be embarrassed to say any of this to Helion had he not already been inside her mind. "I stood out there for hours, just waiting like an idiot, and after that I was done waiting, done caring about any of it." Nesta looks down her nose at Cassian, back straight as a Queen, gaze dismissive. “You dealt with the pain of battle on your own, and then you came back with the same grins and teasing as if nothing had changed. You barely pulled yourself away from Mor or Azriel or Rhysand for a moment, and then you had the nerve to be angry with me because I had changed, because I wasn’t sitting there waiting for you anymore.” Nesta pauses, surveying him as she pushes softly to her feet “you did not want anything to do with me, or everything that I reminded you of, so you left me to handle myself. <em>You</em> left <em>me</em>, so you do not get to be angry with me for learning to cope without you” she turns to Helion “I am sorry you did not get what you wanted today, but this training session is over” and then in nearly a perfect recreation of the previous night, Cassian and Helion watch Nesta’s back as she slowly exits the room, footsteps deliberate and graceful as the goddesses of old that she so resembled. Angry, proud<em>, hurt</em>.</p><p>Helion shakes his head, staring at Cassian the moment the thick mahogany doors slam shut behind her “I was hoping you might have some sort of declaration to make her overjoyed or do something to make her ecstatic, but I suppose sorrow works as well.”</p><p>It is not until Nesta has fully left the room, and Helion finishes his sentence that Cassian even realizes he is choking, that he sees the power surrounding him in tendrils. It is not the pure burning white that he remembers from the battlefield or even from the day before. It is a light grey mist, sparkling in the most beautifully tragic and empty sort of way. It is not slamming into him as it had before, but suffocating him. It has travelled inside of his body and is slowly sucking the oxygen out of his cells one by one. He can’t breathe, can’t move.</p><p>Helion banishes the mist with wave of his hand “I would imagine that is how she felt waiting for you.”</p><p>“Why are you on her side” Cassian grumbles.</p><p>“Because you are 500 years old and acting like a teenager who is too afraid to admit his own feelings” Helion’s voice is raw and angry. His eyes go dark in a way that is so contrary to everything that Cassian knows about the man in front of him “take it from me, if you want that female, go after her now. Tell her everything. Put your heart on a tray in front of her and let her crush it in her hands if she must” he pauses, looking up at the skylight “because you will wish you had suffocated right here rather than live with knowing that you were a coward”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I promise this whole story isn't going to JUST be me taking out my anger at the inner circle, and I want to say that this was mostly a Nesta chapter- we will get more of Cassian's thoughts/feelings and where his story is really going in the next chapter!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Step up or Get Out</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 4</strong>
</p><p>         “You’re erasing half the story” Cassian says quietly from where he stands in the doorway to Nesta’s rooms. It doesn’t seem fair to him, what she looks like. That he has to have this conversation when just the sight of her is making his knees weak. The sight of her having just taken the braid from her hair, feet bare, dress unbound, loose and flowing around her body in such a sinfully light material that a single finger could tear it right off of her. It doesn’t seem fair that he has to face her wrath while she stands in front of that giant window, the entirety of the burning Day Court sun focused only on her, illuminating her pale skin and golden hair, enhancing the contrast of those striking eyes, more blue in this moment than he thinks he has ever seen them- as if the grey mist she released upon him had leeched some of the sparkling, whirling grey out of her eyes. She may as well be a glowing flame, and he, a moth drawn right into that which will burn him. Isn’t that always how it had been between them, though?</p><p>         Nesta does not answer, she only stares at him, stares as though she cannot be bothered to have this conversation “that” he says, moving closer, pointing to her stone face “that is what you are erasing. The hard looks, the sharp words, the-” he stumbles a little over his own words “that you did not come to see me for days while I was healing. I thought you wanted nothing to do with me, Nesta” he dares to take a few steps closer, letting her eyes draw him farther and farther in “I thought that you wanted to be alone, to mourn-”</p><p>         “Don’t” she breaks in harshly “don’t say it. And don’t tell me that it was my fault for not visiting the poor, wounded General on his sick bed. You couldn’t pry Mor out of that room, couldn’t take her hands off of you, couldn’t stop the bloody crying with all the magic in the world” Nesta scoffs.</p><p>         “You tore Hybern’s head off without blinking, but you were afraid to face Mor?” his voice is incredulous and Nesta feels her power starting to seep back into her veins, feels the anger building up again.</p><p>         “I wasn’t <em>afraid</em> of Mor” she spits “you would have wanted her there more than you wanted me there. You made that much obvious before the fighting even began.” She pauses, taking in his slightly slack jaw, the surprise on his face and narrows her eyes, wishing with everything inside of her that he would cut her off and say she was wrong, that it wasn’t true. “And she hates me. She deserved that time to be with her… whatever you two are”</p><p>         “Friends” he says steadily, stepping even closer, now so far into the room that he could reach out an arm and touch her if he wanted to, if he thought she would allow it. “Mor and I are friends. There was no one I wanted there more than you, Nesta. You have to know that.”</p><p>         “How could I?” she says quietly, voice softer than he’s ever heard it “You never-”</p><p>         “I should have” he is a full head taller than her as he stares down, body practically pressed against hers, in a way that feels so right. This could be normal, this could be them every day, but he had left her standing alone on a battlefield after promising to find her, to have time with her.</p><p>         “You never broke your promise” she says quietly, reading the thoughts on his face, chin tilting up so that she can see the confusion and sorrow swimming in his brilliant hazel gaze. Contrary to popular belief, she did not enjoy causing him pain, did not like to watch his eyes which displayed his every emotion so clearly as they darkened. “You promised to protect my family, my people and you did” she nods tightly “I was turned, but you protected me with Hybern, and you fought for the humans.”</p><p>         The look in his eyes speaks the words that she doesn’t give him the opportunity to say aloud. That was not the promise he was thinking of. “You never promised to find me after the battle, Cassian. You never promised me anything about this life, and it was wrong of me to forget that, to be angry with you for it. You promised me the next life, and perhaps things will be right for us there” the exact dark shade of gold that she was dreading fills his gaze and he looks at her with eyes like rusted copper, squealing under the pressure “but not here, General. Not in this world.”</p><p>         If Cassian didn’t know better, couldn’t see every line of her face with perfect clarity he would swear that she was choking him again, that the grey mist had returned and lodged itself so far down his throat that even Helion could not banish it. His throat closed, mouth opening a little to say something, anything, but his vocal chords were raw and dry, and he had no words.</p><p>         “I am tired, and you need not feel responsibility for me anymore. I want to work with Helion, I will work with him and I will stay out of your High Lord and Lady’s way.” Her tone is dismissive, steady. So much worse than when she would spit or glare at him. She is cold, resigned. “So you can leave now, with no <em>regrets.</em>”</p><p>       </p><hr/><p>         Cassian feels an emptiness like he never has before as he launches off of the rooftop of the Day Court, not so much as muttering a goodbye to Helion. If he was being smart about energy conservation then he would have asked for a winnow to Ironcrest, because that is where he is going. Right now. Until these problems in the mountains are managed, he cannot give Nesta what she needs. He cannot be there, pulling whatever Helion needs out of her, letting her yell and bash and hit him with all of that power if it is what she needs.</p><p>         He left her once, and now he is leaving her again. He flies because he needs to think, he needs to feel the wind turn from warm to icy cold along the sensitive membrane of his wings. He did not go to her that day, it’s true. He thought she would not want to see him. He saw that look in her eye when her father died in front of her. She needed Elain or maybe solitude, surely she didn’t <em>need</em> him. Nesta had never needed him, she tolerated him, at times he knows she even found comfort in his presence or liked having him around, but she never needed him. Mor needed him, she needed him to stand between her and Azriel, to take the focus away, to make sure that Az didn’t make some dramatic, passionate battlefield love confession. Exactly like Cassian himself had done.</p><p>         And Azriel needed him, to be there in his sick bed and let Mor fuss over that instead of saying something that might break Az’s heart. He knew she’d have to do it someday, but they’d gotten along fine for the last few centuries, and now was not the time to change. Nothing had to change.</p><p>         Except that everything changed. The second that he walked into that house in the human lands and caught the fire and steel in Nesta Archeron’s eyes, everything had changed. She needed him. The thought flashes through his mind, colder than the air as he soars over Windhaven and continues North, not far off now. She had <em>needed</em> him, and he had been a coward. 500 years old, the Lord of Bloodshed, and he couldn’t muster up the courage to step away from his safety net and go to her. The one place he wanted to be. Even now, he feels like there is an invisible string in his chest, pulling him back to her, fighting him as he flies farther and farther away.</p><p>         <em>“NOOOO, MOTHER HAVE MERCY! NO PLEASE NO! STOP!” </em>the sharp scream stirs Cassian’s mind, ripping his thoughts away from Nesta as he looks down on the Ironcrest camp where warriors are training in giant fighting circles, certainly able to hear the screaming and choosing to ignore it. Cassian trains his eyes in the woods surrounding the camp, honing in on exactly where the screams are coming from. His wings beat hard as he glides down with perfect precision, body landing like an arrow shot to the ground, siphons flaring and smouldering as he stands in front of the young Illyrian woman. A child really, she can’t be more than 16 summers and yet she is tied by her waist to one of the oldest trees in the forest. Cassian’s eyes catch the tear in her left wing first, the blood trickling down. The tendon isn’t entirely severed yet. Possibly still able to be saved.</p><p>         If Cassian were stupid, if he did not know what Illyrian males were capable of, he would think that he got here just in time, that he is lucky. One look at the group of full-grown warriors surrounding this child with knives in hand and the glittering, evil look of the one whose blade bears blood tells him all he needs to know. They were taking turns, savouring it. Taunting her, reviling in her screams. They wanted to make it last, they wanted her to remember this so that the pain would always follow her, always haunt her.</p><p>         Anger blooms hard in Cassian’s stomach, but his face remains as impenetrable as set stone, the only indication of his uncontrollable rage is in the unmistakable flaring of the siphons at his wrists. “Wing clipping has been outlawed for a long, long time” Cassian’s voice is steady, powerful “who here thinks themselves above the law of their High Lord”</p><p>         “That swaggering prick isn’t nothing to me” the one with the blood on his blade spits. Good, he was hoping that was the one he’d get to fight.</p><p>         “And what of <em>your</em> Lord then, where is the commander of this camp?”</p><p>         No one other than the same man is stupid enough to speak “he is not here, and he does not answer to <em>bastards</em>”</p><p>         Cassian smirks a little at that, raising his arm he swipes in the man’s direction as though he is swatting at a fly. He does not even move his stance, does not need to take a step or make physical contact for the magic that has been waiting to be unleashed to smash into this male. With a flicker of bright red that is only a fraction of the power that runs through the General’s body the scum flies back 100 feet, slamming into and snapping through dozens of trees as he does so. Cassian only knows that he landed back inside of the camp because he can hear the satisfying snap of the bones in the male’s wings as they hit hard packed stone and not soft forest grass.</p><p>         Cassian surveys the others. 9 in total. “If it takes 9 of you to <em>fail</em> at clipping the wings of one child then I am glad I’ve chosen to stay in this pathetic excuse for an Illyrian training camp. Maybe you wouldn’t have to be threatened by little girls if you spent more time training to be real warriors, real <em>males</em>” the crowd snarls and growls at him, but no one dares step forward to challenge him. He takes a moment to remember every face in front of him, to ensure that they are properly punished.</p><p>         That is when he sees the young warrior among them. Not as young as the girl, but not fully his own yet either. He has not seen the Rite. He is thinner than the others and his dark eyes are trained on the woman behind Cassian. Arms hold the boy tight behind the shoulders and at the head.</p><p>         “You” Cassian points “Explain what is going on here”</p><p>         “I should think what they were about to do to her is fairly obvious, General” the boy spits fire “I knew that you and your so-called High Lord were incompetent, but I suppose I did not realize that you are stupid as well” the men chuckle a little, looking almost proud of the way the boy is speaking to him. They like seeing him defy the order.</p><p>         “What <em>they</em> were about to do? Not you?”</p><p>         “Does it <em>look</em>” the boy growls, pulling hard at the hands that hold him harshly in position “like I am here by choice?”</p><p>         “Leave us” Cassian Growls, referencing the boy. The men do not question him, realizing that their fun is over. They drop the budding warrior onto his knees in the dirt and begin to move “and if I see a healer within 50 feet of <em>him</em>” he gestures to the male he had sent flying through the trees earlier “I can assure you that every one of your wings will find themselves crushed beneath my boots” his words are harsh and cold and there is no doubt that he means it, but the boy on the ground only laughs as he pulls himself to his feet.</p><p>         “There are no healers here” the words are a bitter scoff “wounds are a reminder that you lost. Pain is a reminder to be better. If someone dies in training then they were never fit to fly with our legions” his words are robotic, as though he is repeating a mantra.</p><p>         “Leave. Now.” Cassian growls at the males, and they disappear into the trees. “fuck” he whispers, ripping the sleeves off of both arms, tearing at the material of the Day Court shirt that he did not bother to change out of before jumping off that roof, simply throwing his leathers on overtop.</p><p>         “What are you doing?” the boy scrambles forward as Cassian turns to the girl bound behind him, fingers deftly unknotting ropes “stop” he pulls at Cassian’s forearm and Cassian knocks the boy back easily.</p><p>         “I don’t know what your story is, boy, but I am not interested in fighting an untested <em>child</em> right now. If you want her to fly again you will do everything I say. If you do not, you will return to the camp and I will deal with you along with the rest of them later” the ropes are coming free beneath his fingers and he tries to speak more softly to the girl in front of him “it’s ok. I am going to help you.” her eyes are wide and trained on the boy behind them.</p><p>         “What do you need me to do?”</p><p>         Cassian looks back for only a second, surveying the boy, appraising the threat. Whatever else he may be, they are clearly on the same team right now. They have the same goal. He passes him a scrap of golden fabric “dip this in the stream and wipe away the blood”</p><p>         The boy does as he is told, crashing his boot through the frozen top of the stream and wetting the silk material with cold, numbing water. He barely takes his eyes off of the girl as Cassian surveys the wound. It’s not great, but it is not hopeless, and if he can get her to Madja quickly enough, she just might fly again.</p><p>         Once the boy is done wiping the blood as best he can, Cassian sets the wing back in its proper place, tying it tightly with the remaining fabric. The less it moves the better. Once he is confident that it is secure enough, he lifts the girl easily into his arms, placing a shield around them so the wind does not jostle her fragile wing.</p><p>         “Where are you-”</p><p>         “She needs a healer, and a damn good one” Cassian levels the boy with his gaze “you can stay here, or you can follow me, and meet the High Lord you so despise.”</p><p>         Cassian does not wait for an answer as he launches himself into the sky, wings flapping madly. He hears it though, the sounds of younger, smaller wings trailing behind him “try and keep up, <em>boy</em>”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Who do you guys think that boy could be? Any guesses/predictions? </p><p>Next chapter we will see a look into what's really going on at these illyrian camps, and also Nesta will finally get a moment to herself to read something from Helion's obviously expansive selection of romance novels ;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Distance Makes The Heart...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Quick note that I love to flip things that are only hinted at in cannon on their head of what you think they would be, so this chapter is sort of the whole set up for how I took a blink-and-you'll-miss-them character from ACOFAS and just really had to RUN with it.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 5:</strong>
</p><p>         “When can I see her?” the boy is sitting agitatedly on one of the massive midnight blue sofas in the river home’s main parlour. It is the first words he has spoken since arriving, and they are directed at Cassian, not the High Lord and Lady who sit eyeing him suspiciously on a sofa opposite him. Cassian had shown Rhys the entire scene and Rhys of course shared it with Feyre. After calling the healer, that is.</p><p>         “Madja says she will be finished in a couple hours. The girl will likely not wake until morning, however.” Cassian seats himself beside his brother, bumping his shoulder a little and he can see the boy’s brow raise a little at that, the informality of it. “You may see her then, provided you answer a few questions”</p><p>         “I’m not telling <em>you</em> anything” he spits, eyes on Rhysand now.</p><p>         “You are free to leave at any time” the High Lord shrugs.</p><p>         “You know I’m not leaving without her”</p><p>         “We have reached an impasse then, it would seem.” The boy growls, looking down “when did wing clipping start again in the Ironcrest camp?”</p><p>         “Seriously? It never stopped.” he spits, both enraged and surprised by the clear shock on Rhysand’s face.</p><p>         “That’s not possible, we-”</p><p>         “Sent the shadowsinger to spy? I know. They don’t do it to everyone, they only do it if they catch a female flying after she comes of age. They clip them in every sense of the word except for physically. If you follow the rules, stay on the ground and act in every manner as if it has been done then you can keep your wings. It’s how they parade these winged women in front of you whenever you visit” he stares at Rhysand, murder in his eyes.</p><p>         “And she, the girl in there, she tried to fly?”</p><p>         “No” the boy looks down, shame filling his face “well, yes she did. She flew all of the time, but she was never stupid enough to get caught. This was different though; it wasn’t about her.”</p><p>         “What was it about?” Cassian asks, voice gentler than before.</p><p>         “Me” the boy rasps, staring at the ground “my father says that my spirit is too weak for the Blood Rite, that I will embarrass him. I was meant to take it last spring, but he delayed me. He thinks I am too weak, not physically, but because me and a group of other novices, we want to stop the clipping. It makes us a target.”</p><p>         “I don’t understand” Cassian’s eyes are narrowed.</p><p>         “She is my mate” the boy admits quietly “we haven’t… we haven’t accepted it yet, I don’t even think she knows, but my father could tell, He saw it on my face, may as well have felt the bond snap into place as strongly as I did. He ordered those men to clip her and make me watch. He said it would make me stronger, get these ridiculous ideas out of my head. Turn me into a real Male.”</p><p>         Cassian can feel bile rise in his throat as Rhys asks the question that they all know the answer to “what is your name?”</p><p>         “Kallon. My father is the Lord of the Ironcrest camp” there is no sharp inhalation, no shocked expressions. They knew, as soon as he mentioned his father, they knew that this was the boy behind the Ironcrest rebellion. Cassian can practically feel Rhysand and Feyre talking inside of each other’s minds, coming up with a plan.</p><p>         Cassian is not so diplomatic; he knows the Illyrians. “It is not just a group of novices who want to stop the clipping, is it?” he asks slowly and when Rhys doesn’t move to stop him he presses forward “you are organizing a rebellion, aren’t you?”</p><p>         The boy smiles at that, a vicious, brutal sort of smirk that lets Cassian finally see his father in him “you bet your ass I am, General” he straightens “you can do whatever you want to me. Cut my wings off and throw me out the window, send an ash arrow through my heart, sick a water wolf on me” he throws a look at Feyre “it won’t matter. There are enough of us, in my camp and others, who are sick of waiting for you to do something, sick of half-assed solutions and attempts.” He glares at Rhysand and Cassian both, pure hatred in his gaze “you have failed to protect our females, so we are taking it into our own hands.”</p><p>         “And what of every other male in Illyria” Rhsy spits “the ones who still want to clip wings, some of the strongest fighters in Prythian history, the leaders of the very armies that just won us this war. What would you have me do to quell their rebellion?”</p><p>         “Absolutely nothing” the boy stares him down “enough of the older soldiers died in the last war. Their time is over, that version of Illyria is over. If I were the most powerful High Lord in Prythian history, and I truly cared about the females in these camps, I would give my orders and show no mercy to those who would oppose me.”</p><p>         “Live in the future or die in the past” Cassian smirks, turning to meet Rhys’ gaze. Not because it is a good plan. It isn’t. It is brash, idealistic, unrealistic, and dangerous, and it would tear their court apart and leave them with a weak, young, untested army. But mother be damned if he, Rhys, and Az hadn’t contemplated the <em>exact</em> same plan when they were Kallon’s age. Before Rhys’ mom smacked some sense into them, that is.</p><p>         They get it now, why Az’s research had this boy pegged as such a threat. He<em> is</em> even more brutal and bloodthirsty than his father, and he is planning a massive rebellion, but not for the reasons that anyone would think. He is not the downfall of Illyria. He is its hope.</p><p>         “Conquer the Rite” Rhys says calmly “do not just complete it, conquer it. You and these other untested warriors will complete the Rite this spring. You will scale Ramiel” he says steadily “and if you do that” he looks to his High Lady, nodding at whatever she is speaking in his head “I will come to the Ironcrest camp myself and strip your father of his title.” The implications are unspoken, that Kallon would take his father’s place, that a young, barely blooded warrior would rule over one of the largest and most angry camps in all of Illyria.</p><p>         “Only a handful of warriors in history have scaled Ramiel at the end of the Rite. How will I-”</p><p>         “You will train” Cassian breaks in “with me, with someone who did scale Ramiel. If you believe in this, in everything that you are saying and rallying your troops for, then don’t talk about it. Fight for it. Don’t play at rebellion, boy, because we will defeat you. If you rise up against the High Lord and Lady of this Court, I will personally wipe your entire camp off of the map.” Cassian pauses, cracking his neck as he lets the words sink in. They are not a threat, not meant to scare or intimidate. They are a fact “I have done it before.” Images of the frozen, vacant landscape where his mother’s camp had once existed flash through his mind, and he can see in Kallon’s eyes that he is picturing it as well.</p><p>         “When do we start?” everyone in the room grins viciously at that single phrase, as the plan comes together. These men who would clip wings and work females to death will pay. They will relent, or they will pay with their very lives.</p><p>       </p><hr/><p>         On the 6<sup>th</sup> day of her stay at the Day Court, Nesta is informed that Helion will be away for 2 days. She is not exactly surprised by this, obviously a High Lord had important things to tend to in a post-war world. She would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little excited to have a few days to herself. Nesta has gotten used to her own company, apart from Elain she had always tended to prefer her own company. Perhaps there was a brief moment in time, a blip in the context of an immortal life, where she enjoyed spending her time with another, but... not now, not anymore. Rigth now she just wants to be alone in that massive library. When Alydhia comes in with the sunrise, Nesta is already out of bed “Could I take my tea and breakfast in the East library?” she asks tentatively “Is that, is it okay if I spend the day in there?”</p><p>         The female nods “of course, His Lordship says you may do as you wish while he is away.”</p><p>         Nesta smiles a little, allowing the female to slip a more casual bronze gown over her head. It is loose and flows just below her knees with tight sleeves that flare out a little at the wrist, perfect for a relaxing day surrounded by books.</p><p>         When Nesta enters the library, she does not go to the white corner where she and Helion practice. Instead, she walks up to the second level of the library, where a cream-coloured plush armchair has been calling her name. She grabs her tea, thanks Alydhia, and ventures into the stacks. It has been days of working at her powers and being away from her usual haunts, and Nesta is feeling… tightly wound. She is not surprised when she stumbles upon an entire shelf of various Fae romance novels. Of course Helion would have such a thing in his grand library. She does not question it, grabbing for a few based entirely on the cover. She will never admit that the first one she dives into has a man with dark hair and membranous wings on the front. The back cover tells her that it is indeed an Illyrian love story, a woman whose wings have been clipped, who feels that she cannot be the warrior she is meant to be and the man, a Lord (of course), who teaches her differently. Nesta falls into it quickly, not noticing how long she sits in that chair, turning page after page until she realizes that there are only 10 or so left, that she has reached the final chapter. She lets herself fall into the conclusion she has been waiting for, ready to devour this happy ending.</p><p>         <em>Crystaleen widened her eyes, seeing Johannes as though for the first time. His muscles tightened, rippling as they closed around her, shutting everyone out until the world existed for only them. He looked into her eyes in that moment and she took a hard breath in, feeling her heart pump once, twice, harder, closer to his. If she tried for a thousand years she would never be able to explain the feeling, the all-encompassing </em>click<em> that just tells her the man in front of her is the missing puzzle piece of her soul. She looks into his eyes and her body does not belong to herself anymore. She feels it. The look in his searing dark eyes tells her that he feels it too. He cannot be surrounded by all of these people. He slips an arm around her waist and before she knows it Crystaleen is in the sky, soaring over the camp in a way she never imagined she would again. She cannot keep the smile off of her face.</em></p><p>
  <em>         “I love you” Johannes says, eyes refusing to leave her face. She is the true north on his compass. He should have seen it days, months, years ago. “I can be the wings for both of us” he smiles, turning her in his arms so that he holds her tightly under the breasts, back against his front. He holds her so that she can look at the world beneath her “where do you want to go Leena?” his voice is a gentle whisper in her ear, and she feels a sensual chill run down her spine as her eyes train themselves on the ground. In this instant she knows that she could say anything, he would take her anywhere. They could leave the evils of this camp and wander into the wide world she has longed to see.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         That is not what she wants in this moment, however. She takes a deep breath, imagining that she can feel the wind on her clipped wings as she stares down at the weathered camp below her. It is not a happy place, it is not a place that makes her feel warm or content, but he… Johannes does. He makes her skin feel on fire, and he belongs here. He is the Lord of this camp and that cabin is his home. It is where he belongs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>         “I want to go home” a smiles spreads across Crystaleen’s face as she says the words, and she means them. She wants to go home, not to the place where she was hurt, not to the place that cast her aside, but to the place where she met him. The place where he became hers. When he lands them in front of the cabin she has elaborate plans. She is going to cook a roast chicken dinner, she is going to make a chocolate desert. She has plans…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         But then he is standing in front of her, wings flaring and she grabs onto his top, soft skin fitting tightly into the scales of his leathers. She pulls him into the cabin and all of a sudden there is a persistent clenching in the core of her sex, demanding to be satisfied. She grabs a half stale piece of bread off of the counter and practically thrusts it at him “eat it” she grins, biting her lip gently.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>         He does, he shoves the entire thing into his mouth in an instant, choking it down with no water and acting as though it is the sweetest cake he has ever had the pleasure of passing his lips. Crystaleen tips her neck back and the second his lips meet the sensitive flesh at her-</em>
</p><p>Nesta slams the book shut, a far too similar vision of her own life flashing through her mind, of dark hair and golden eyes and gentle, probing lips against her throat. She throws the book aside, angry at her body for disobeying her mind. Angry at her lower zone for clenching in anticipation along with the main character, not because of the book, but because of her own experience. No, she scolds herself, as harshly as she had scolded him. No, she is not allowed to want that, to crave him. He is not hers, and she is not his. They will never belong to each other in that way. Their stories will always be intertwined only in passing. Nesta feels the first tear slip down her cheek, the first one since the battle, as she realizes that he could be the subject of a book like this, but she never will be. She will always be the side character that pulls his attention for a moment, before he finds someone better. Someone loving, someone who fits with him and everything that he is. She will always be relegated to the first 50 pages of a book like this. She could never let herself be <em>his</em> in the way that these books always describe couples, so he will never be hers. Nesta Archeron is, and always will be entirely her own.</p><p>         That said, it has been nearly a week in this place with no men around that she has noticed. Helion has probably ordered the workers to stay out of the places she usually wanders; for fear of their safety or just to spare them her glare, she does not know. Or maybe he is just trying to deny her an eligible sexual partner until such time as she is about to literally explode and begs him to take her to bed.</p><p>         Nesta figures she has at least another week before that becomes any kind of real possibility.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So there you go, let me know what you think! Personally I think Nesta's biggest conciliation prize in getting shoved into that cauldron is not her powers, but the vast array of Fae Romance Novels!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. We are Fighters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A bit of a filler chapter if I'm being honest, but I hope you enjoy nevertheless. All of your kind words and encouragement really keep me going so hopefully I'll have the next chapter out soon!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 6:</strong>
</p><p>         Upon his arrival Cassian informs Raliar, the Ironcrest camp Lord of 3 things: that he will not be leaving until the Blood Rite is completed, that the next time he hears of an order being given to clip wings he will gladly murder the soldiers and commander, and that the lord’s son is a vicious prick who Cassian himself can’t wait to start knocking around in the fighting rings, if only to teach him some respect.</p><p>         The last one is a lie, sort of. Kallon said that any inkling his father might get that the boy is gaining favour with the hated General and High Lord would only lead to more violent orders. This works out well considering no mercy dawn to dusk training is the best way to prepare a group of novices for the Rite.</p><p>         “Where is Terria?” Kallon asks for the one millionth time as he faces Cassian in the largest fighting ring that the Ironcrest camp has to offer.</p><p>         “Safe”</p><p>         “Tell me where she is” the boy screams, launching forward with his practice sword. Cassian barely even has to shift to disarm the boy and throw him to the ground.</p><p>         “She is in a better place than this, and you can see her <em>after</em> the Rite” Cassian growls, nudging the boy with his foot to get up “you’re smarter than that sloppy attack. You are going to have opponents that are bigger and stronger than you. Mother knows I have. Battles aren’t won by muscles alone. You need to be smart.”</p><p>         “How can I be smart when I can’t even focus” he seethes “you took my mate away. She could be hurt for all I know, and you expect me to focus on fake battles?”</p><p>         Cassian turns quickly, throwing out his leg to send the boy flying face first into the dirt of the ring. He places a boot firmly in the middle of Kallon’s back, ensuring that he cannot move. They are being watched. No one can hear them, but they are being watched.</p><p>         “Stop” Cassian says quietly “feel the bond, the connection. What does it feel like?”</p><p>         The boy stops squirming and heaves a breath as best he can from under Cassian’s boot “it’s like… a hum in my head that I can’t ignore, a pull in my chest that is dragging me to her”</p><p>         “What did it feel like when they clipped her?” Kallon’s muscles go rigid “when she was tied to that tree and you couldn’t do anything about it. What did it feel like when you were too <em>weak</em> to protect her?” Kallon takes another breath, rage boiling inside of him. He moves a wing, the only appendage not immobilized by Cassian’s casually crushing hold and flares it out, quickly and harshly enough that Cassian stumbles back a few paces. It is all the boy needs. He is on his feet in a heartbeat, sword back in hand, facing his opponent.</p><p>         “Good. Use your brain” Cassian nods “though, your wings will be tied in the Rite so you should stop relying on them” he moves closer, letting Kallon make a couple good hits- only the ones that are well thought out,  before he knocks him back again “I asked you about the bond because you would know if she was hurt. You felt it, when she was in pain.”</p><p>         “As though they were cutting my own wings” he grits out, slowly bringing himself back to his feet.</p><p>         “So you know that she is not in pain. She is not in danger, she is safe, and she is healing.” Cassian grabs Kallon’s sword wrist easily when the boy tries to lunge at him, twisting so that it stings, but not enough to break a bone. Not without a healer here, it would set them back too far. “She will come back here if, and only if<em> you</em> make it safe for her to do so”</p><p>         It was a low blow, and Cassian knows it. He knew it before he even said the words, knew the ice that was going to fill the boy’s veins. He predicted the swinging foot and quelled it easily. He didn’t predict the elbow of the same arm he currently held coming up in one swift movement to connect with his jaw. Smart kid. This hair-brained scheme of Rhys’ just might have some hope after all.</p><p>         Cassian smiles at his protégée through bloody teeth and nods his head “good. Next time don’t let go of the advantage so easily. You got your hit, but I still have your wrist. What do you do now?”</p><p>         Kallon pauses for a second, and Cassian is glad that he is taking the brain-power advice to heart. He moves his right leg a little but then stops. Good, Cassian would have had him on the ground in a second. Kallon drops his sword and flings his own head as hard as he can backwards into Cassian’s nose, using the height difference to his advantage instead of letting himself be dwarfed. He spins quickly so that they are face to face and then his left leg connects with Cassian’s chest.</p><p>         On another novice it would have been a hell of a move, enough to win the fight maybe. Cassian is the General of the Night Court armies, however, and the sun is rising. Other warriors are starting to enter the rings, people are watching. He lets the leg connect with his chest, stumbling back a step, swiping out his own leg as he does. The boy is knocked off balance in a second. Cassian is on top of him quicker than he even realizes he has fallen “Sorry kid” he grimaces a little and then delivers one powerful blow. Kallon is unconscious immediately and the crowd is grumbling a little. Cassian picks up the Lordling’s limp body and throws it- not as harshly as he normally would- into a nearby pile of mud and water. He’ll wake up in a few hours, embarrassed and bruised enough to train harder.</p><p>         Cassian does a slow spin around the ring, wings flaring and siphons gleaming “so, who is next?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>         “When is the last time that you can remember being truly happy?” Helion’s eyes are narrowing in on Nesta, studying her, looking for the answer inside the gates of her mind but coming up empty.</p><p>         Nesta grimaces a little. Not recently, that’s for sure. Not since being <em>made</em>. She swallows that comment though, trying to genuinely remember because the more she can focus on this the better. Nesta finds that she actually likes Helion, despite herself. There is a level of peace that comes with being nearly a thousand years old and it is infectious. Everything in this place is covered with an overwhelming feeling of peace. It makes her feel tired, remaining as angry and barbed as she usually is. She has more peace here than in the Night Court. Happy, though? When can she remember being happy? “Um, I suppose the day that Elain got engaged”</p><p>         “Tell me about it, all of it. Start to finish, don’t leave anything out”</p><p>         “It was shortly after Feyre left, the second time, right before she went under The Mountain. I knew that she wasn’t coming back and that made sense, in a weird sort of way. She was never really meant for that village. I felt… at peace in my relationship with my youngest sister for the first time probably in our lives” Nesta catches the way that Helion’s mouth tightens a little “obviously I didn’t know what she was about to go through, I thought that she was running off into the sunset to be with her true love” they both scoff a little at that “I assumed that she was happy and in love. She told me she loved him-”</p><p>         “She did” Helion nods “I saw her, she loved Tamlin so much, for a time.”</p><p>         Nesta nods, looking down at her hands “Feyre was always better at that than I was, loving people. Neither of us were as good at it as Elain, as natural, but Feyre was better at it, less bitter I suppose. Feyre was smart, discerning. Elain loved everyone and I always felt like I had to be watching her. I didn’t feel that way about Graysen though. His father was horrid, but not in a way that was dangerous to Elain.”</p><p>         “You protect her, Elain?”</p><p>         Nesta nods “my whole life, since the moment I saw her in her crib, looking up at me with those giant brown eyes, all I can remember is wanting to protect her, to make sure she was safe and happy. I would have done anything to make her happy”</p><p>         Helion leans forward on his elbows, moving closer. It’s shifting, that ever-present power that whirls around inside the gates of her mind is shifting and he has to act quickly. “What happened next? After Feyre left?”<br/>      </p><p>        “Our father was gone as well, which was a blessing” she stops, looking down at her hands “at the time, I thought it was at least”</p><p>         One step forward, two steps back. “Elain Nesta, focus on Elain. Happy, remember?”</p><p>         “Right. Happy, happy” she repeats the word a few times, testing out the taste of it on her tongue as though she has never tried it. “I knew that Elain was in love with him, and he was everything I would have wanted for her. He was brave and handsome and strong, and then…” she smiles a little, genuinely looks back at the moment with joy “our father was away, and Graysen said that he couldn’t wait, he couldn’t wait for ships or trades or anything. He came to see me, and he asked <em>me</em> for permission to marry Elain” Nesta is actually smiling, Helion cannot remember having ever seen the sight, it is radiant. He needs her to capture it “I didn’t really have any authority of course, but just the fact that he knew, he knew that Elain wouldn’t do it unless I approved. He hated me” she laughs “I have that effect on people” she shrugs, completely unbothered by the statement “he hated me so much, but he walked into my home and got down on his knee and bowed his head and begged me to let him marry my sister”</p><p>         “Hold that” Helion says quickly, feeling her power start to connect with his own in a new way “focus on it, feel it in your mind, try to cast the feeling outward, direct it at me. Close your eyes and keep talking. Tell me what happened next” he knows they are getting to the pique, the best part. He could feel in his bones what would happen when Nesta held the picture of Elain’s smiling face in her mind. He let her continue to talk as he reached for a blade.</p><p>         “He asked her the second she returned. If I thought that he had begged me, you couldn’t imagine the things he said to Elain. He was on his knees, saying that he couldn’t live without her, that she was the world to him, and then he pulled out that iron ring and I swear it was raining that day because the sun was ashamed to even be seen in the presence of Elain’s smile” the smell of blood hits Nesta’s nose as she finishes speaking. She opens her eyes abruptly, seeing the deep gash on Helion’s arm.</p><p>         “React” he says quickly “don’t think, don’t move. Push it out. Look at her face and push the power at me”</p><p>         Nesta doesn’t have time to think, still half caught in the story she throws her hand out in Helion’s direction. They both sit in complete and utter silence as the shimmering yellow flash of power travels for a second on the air between then am collides immediately with his injured arm. The tendrils wrap arounf his arm and the skin sews back together in a second, as if the 6-inch gash was never there, as if it was child’s play, as if the power was disappointed and wanted a real challenge.</p><p>         “How-”</p><p>         “<em>Life</em>” Helion reminds her, surveying his arm in wonder, not even the faintest hint of a scar “I told you, your powers are life. You can take it away, but you can also give it. Just as the cauldron can.”</p><p>         Nesta blinks, and she does not react the way one might expect, “well that would have been gods-damned useful to know in the war”</p><p>         “Why do you think I was so pissed that the commander waited this long to bring you to me?”</p><p>         “Why do you call him that?” Nesta asks abruptly. They have been carefully avoiding the topic of Cassian for days now, so she pounces at the mention. “Commander, I mean. He’s a General”</p><p>         “No” Helion shakes his head, laughing lightly “to you he may be a General. But that swaggering mass of wings and muscle that you know is not the boy that I fought with 500 years ago. I knew he was special even then, so I started calling him commander to piss off Rhys’ father and all those pumped up Illyrian asses. It drove them mad when I would winnow into their camps and walk right past their actual Lord Commander and instead address this bastard boy by a title they all believed he could never dream of having” he pauses, surveying her expression, noting with casual interest that the little tendrils of power that continue to swirl inside of her mind have not shifted colour from the searing yellow “then later, when he actually rose above the name, I had to keep calling him Commander to remind the little shit where he started, he can be unbearably arrogant, no matter how well-earned the arrogance may be”</p><p>         Nesta scoffs “tell me about it”</p><p>         “He is a good male, Nesta” Helion’s voice is earnest “as I said, cocky and overpuffed at times, but it is all a defence mechanism” Nesta nods, this is not new information to her. She has heard pieces of his past, knows his story. She has never really thought of him as arrogant. His self-assurance can be annoying, but it does not take a Daemati to know that his easy smiles and teasing are hiding something else. Something she has seen, the part of him that she prefers. The two of them aren’t as different as everyone might think.</p><p>         “Why are you telling me this?”</p><p>         Helion leans back, running a hand over his temple and swiping his long dark hair behind his shoulder “because he is in love with you” his words are simple, the kind of factual decree that does not allow a rebuttal “and because when you let me into your mind I can feel the power shift and move with your mood, and switching from Elain to Cassian did not shift your emotions, while even brief mentions of Feyre and your father did” Nesta is in a stunned silence and the High Lord can tell she does not fully understand what he is trying to say, won’t accept it yet “but mostly, because I know what life looks like for centuries after two people let a good thing slip away from them. I know the pain and emptiness that fills someone when they don’t fight for what they love.”</p><p>         Nesta vaguely recalls a story then about Helion and the Lady of the Autumn Court. An affair, a doomed love story, the kind of thing that she would read about in her novels, where years later in old age the two lovers would find each other again. She supposes Fae never grow old, but surely they have stories like this, of moving from one lover to another even after decades, centuries. How could someone live an immortal life and be satisfied with an arranged marriage from youth? That isn’t how her book would end. It just isn’t.</p><p>         “You speak as though in a world of immortal Fae it is ever too late to fight for the one you love”</p><p>         Helion breathes out a sigh “I am a lover, not a fighter” he gives her a wry sort of smile that almost hides the pain in his golden eyes “the older one gets, even an immortal, the more complicated things become. There are things that become more important than love. You are young, though.”</p><p>         “Maybe so” she admits “but I think that right now controlling these powers, getting a reign on them is the most important thing to me, and quelling unrest in the mountains is the most important thing for Cassian” Nesta looks up at the golden-clad Lord of Day, his dark features set entirely on her “I know that everyone is watching us, waiting for us to act on whatever it is that exists between us, but as I am sure you can understand, hearing a romantic story is one thing, seeing it through in the real world is quite another. Dying with someone is much easier than living with them" Helion nods, complete understanding etched into his features "I do not know if the General and I would complete each other or destroy each other. I do know, however, that we are fighters, not lovers. Both of us are fighters, and for right now, that is enough.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Next chapter Nesta and Cassian will interact face to face, I promise!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Fear and Longing in Prythian</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Hey! So apparently the E mail notifier on Ao3 was undergoing some refurbs so please check to see if you got the last chapter before you read this one!</p><p>Also, I decided to give everyone a longer chapter this time so I could fit all of solstice into one chapter, so I hope you like.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 7</strong>
</p><p>         Cassian does not return to the Night Court for solstice celebrations that year. With the Rite happening in only 3 months to the day, he cannot lose a minute of training. He informs Kallon and the rest of the novices of this and there is grumbling, but also hardened nods of understanding.</p><p>         The 2 months that he has been at the Ironcrest camp have passed with moderately satisfactory progress. It was so long ago that Cassian was in their shoes that he cannot even remember what he, Rhys and Az were like, what a reasonable level of strength is. He and his brothers were more powerful, that much is certain, but they were also less disciplined in ways. Cassian talks a big game about being smart in battle, but that was a skill he honed years after the Rite. Azriel had always been the brains of the operation when they were younger, with those shadows pulling and whispering to him, leading him to his brothers, warning them when an attack was coming. Magic is taken away in the Rite, but those shadows are not a part of Azriel's power, they are a part of him, etched into his DNA, there is no way to take that from him. These boys will not have that advantage.</p><p>         The sun is dipping low, almost entirely gone when he barks out the end of the last fight for that day. Most of the older warriors finished training a while ago and are standing about having fun betting on the novices. Others watch with a careful eye, observing the training and saving their money to bet on who will come back alive.</p><p>         “That’s enough” Cassian barks out, having let the fight go on a little longer than he should have just to prove his well-established disdain for the boy being pummelled “you’ve made your point Ghasen, the sun is almost gone. Everyone take a bath, you all stink of mud and sweat and mediocrity” most of the novices grumble and scatter, but the massive boy in the ring glares at Cassian as he kicks aside Kallon’s blood-soaked body. He definitely has a few cracked ribs. He will want to bandage those properly or he won’t be back in fighting form for weeks, which is not an option.  </p><p>         “Get up Kallon. This is pathetic, getting beat is one thing but giving up is not illyrian.” He goads the boy, watching the layer of muscle he has put on in the past months tense as he forces himself to his feet “good, now go run back to your Lord father and have him shove your face in a pile of snow. Might just save your nose from being permanently disfigured, though… likely not” he shrugs and the boy spits out a mouthful of blood, limping himself out of the ring.</p><p>         “You talk a big game for someone who I have never seen in the ring before” everyone who was previously heading for their tents freezes, turning to watch the champion of the last fight challenge their General. Ghasen is a brutal mass of a boy, his muscles are not as lean and defined as more experienced warriors, but he is a solid wall of uncontrolled strength and power. Nearly as tall as Cassian himself, and clearly weathered in battle beyond his years. If he weren’t such an insufferable, arrogant prick Cassian might say that the novice reminds him of himself at that age. Then again, maybe that is why he reminds Cassian of himself at that age.</p><p>         “You have never seen me in the ring, boy, because I am here before you wake up and long after you have gone to bed.”</p><p>         “Perhaps fighting with only yourself has made you weak” the boy is overconfident, having let a few good matches get to his head.</p><p>         “You will close your mouth and leave this ring if you know what is good for you, boy. The Rite is only 3 months away and broken bones take half that time to heal. Now would be a very stupid time to pick a fight that you cannot win”</p><p>         “I could win if you didn’t cheat with all those stupid siphons” the boy really is as stupid as he looks.</p><p>         “Didn’t need the siphons to scale Ramiel” his voice is casual as he moves closer to the ring, knowing that he can’t ignore the challenge.</p><p>         “That was 500 years ago” the boy scoffs “and you needed a High Lord to help you do it. Everyone knows you only command these armies because you and that half-breed prick have been in bed together for years” Cassian scoffs, of all the rumours that were spreading about he and Rhys through these camps this was by far the most ridiculous, and amusing. <em>Rhys wishes</em>, Cassian thinks to himself, filing it away as something to tease Feyre about at their next family dinner. Whenever that will be.</p><p>         “Sounds like you’ve been chatting with some friends about this” Cassian grins, ducking into the ring “go on, invite them up. As many as you like.” Cassian waits as the boy gathers his little band of miscreants, casually wrapping some thick white bandage around his wrists and hands. He takes off his leather fighting vest, plucking the remaining siphons from his leathers and dropping them onto the shirt in the corner of the ring. His wings flare a little as he lets the boys take in the swirl of tattoos that cross his chest and arms. Battle marks that he has earned. Victories inked across his chest that they have yet to even dream of considering.</p><p>         There are about a half dozen boys standing across from him now and every Illyrian in the camp, it seems, has been summoned to watch the spectacle. Good, a show of power is useless if no one watches.</p><p>         “No siphons, no wings, just like the Rite” he grins, sweeping his shoulder-length hair back into a loose bun “not that you lot have either” he surveys the adolescent wings of his challengers and rolls his eyes a little. That pisses one off and he lunges forward recklessly. Idiot.</p><p>         Cassian doesn’t even have to change his stance, the pressure of his powerful forearm as he blocks the attack snaps the bone in the boy’s sword arm and the weapon clangs to the ground. He lifts the boy easily by the scruff, as if he is nothing, and tosses him across the camp. There’s a loud thud as he collides with some trees. That one got off easy.</p><p>         The next attack is choreographed, smarter. 2 of the boys begin to circle Cassian, who just grins as he waits for the obvious- the third boy who attacks from behind. That one doesn’t even manage to make contact with the General before his chest finds itself on the other side of a roundhouse kick. He slides across the mud and crashes into a tent rather than actually ‘flying’.</p><p>         “Resulting to tricks is the sign of an opponent who knows they are outmatched” Cassian taunts the remaining 4 boys. One of them is smart enough to survey the situation with wide eyes and drop his sword.</p><p>         “Fuck this Ghasen, I’m not snapping my ribs open months before the Rite”</p><p>         Cassian nods at the boy, letting him leave the ring “there is no shame in being smart” he says loudly, to those watching “if the one who outmatches you is not an enemy then the glory of battle is not worth crippling yourself”</p><p>         Ghasen growls, stocking forward with the other 2 boys that remain, creating a miniature battle line. Not a bad strategy. If only they weren’t so easy to bait. Cassian looks up at the setting sun and then raises his hand to his mouth, yawning a little as he moves easily backward. The boy on the left is furious, he throws himself against Cassian’s torso, connecting with a powerful ‘thud’. Cassian lets him have about .3 of a second to feel satisfied before he takes advantage of the idiotically vulnerable position the boy has put himself in. One swift elbow to the exposed crown of the head is all it takes for him to slump down, unconscious. Cassian kicks him aside easily, hearing the ribs crack. Only a few of them though, no need to make an example out of that one any farther. His own stupidity did that.</p><p>         “This is getting boring, boys” he smiles.</p><p>         The 2 remaining boys each take one side, charging him. The one on his right, he grabs by the neck easily, holding him above the ground as he gasps for air, clawing at Cassian’s forearm.</p><p>         Ghasen, to his credit, was smarter, and found a vulnerable spot at the back of his left thigh to sink his hard kick into. The leg buckles a little, Cassian lifts it before he can fall, spinning around on his right to knock Ghasen to the ground with his own friend’s body, using the boy in his arms like a sparring stick. He lowers him to the ground and takes a step back “your choice”</p><p>         The barely breathing boy is out of the ring in a heartbeat and then it is time for the main event. Ghasen is back on his feet, he runs forward and the first blow connects with Cassian’s jaw. It’s a good hit. A solid, strong hit. Cassian grins as he returns the favour, a quick uppercut to the jaw and 2 swift blows to the easily exposed and vulnerably soft skin of the boy’s neck.</p><p>         He waits for Ghasen to recover and they spar hit for hit for a few moments, until Cassian grows bored. The boy launches at him with his dull training blade and the look in his eyes is priceless when Cassian sinks his left hand right onto the blade, yanking until the boy is right in front of him. He lifts a knee quickly to his chest. A few cracked ribs. He twists the sword, throwing it aside, spinning the boy’s arm behind him as he does. Ghasen lets out a scream as Cassian given one hard twist to break his wrist. He shoves the boy forward, landing a few good kicks to his exposed middle.</p><p>         The bloody boy drags himself up for more though and Cassian sighs. Idiot. “As I said before, there is no shame in calling a match”</p><p>         “Never” he growls, clumsily moving forward. Cassian moves out of the way easily, jabbing his elbow into the back of the boy’s spine to send him to the ground again. He steps on Ghasen’s neck this time though, leaving his boot there as he leans forward “there are 2 spots in the neck. One is higher up. Right here-” he digs his toe in on the soft spot of Ghasen’s skull, where it meets his neck “enough pressure there and you’ll lose consciousness. Then you can wake up, tend to those ribs and that wrist and be back in the ring in a few months” the boy is scrambling, fighting weakly to get out from under his opponent “the other option is here” the heel of Cassian’s boot digs in to the bottom of Ghasen’s neck “this is where your neck and spine connect. A hard enough hit here and that vertebrate will essentially crumble inside of your body” to emphasize the point he pushes down a little harder and the boy screams out “I am here to train you. You are no use to me if that vertebrate snaps because you won’t be able to walk or fly or move a single muscle below the neck” Cassian moves forward, pressure entering his toes again, shifting to that soft spot at the top of Ghasen’s skull “rest assured, boy, if you challenge me again, I’ll be doing this lower on you neck” he growls, lifting his foot and driving it hard into that soft spot. The boy passes out immediately and Cassian shatters his other wrist for good measure. Illyrians are not known for their mercy, and showing any more of it to this child who challenged him would certainly not be a good move. He gathers his shirt and siphons and disappears easily into the crowd, the entire camp seeming to have fallen into silence.</p><p>         Cassian is shocked when his tent is not empty. Kallon is sitting on the bed, gripping his ribs tightly “I need help wrapping them if I’m going to be in the ring tomorrow” he grits out</p><p>         Cassian nods, reaching for the bandages and beginning to wrap them tightly around the boy’s ribcage “it isn’t that bad, they’re only cracked, not entirely broken."</p><p>         Kallon scoffs “unlike those boys out there”</p><p>         “None of them were yours, I assume?” the two had decided long ago that the less Cassian knows about who is and isn't a part of Kallon's little rebellion the better. That way there is no risk of favouritism or exposing themselves. Kallon just shakes his head and Cassian nods “good. They were stupid. That isn’t who you should trust, and it definitely isn’t who you should try to team up with in the Rite”</p><p>         “Solstice is tomorrow” Kallon breathes in sharply, back straightening as Cassian tightens the wrapping, nodding in acknowledgement “I was hoping that maybe, since it’s a holiday and no one will be training… I could go see Terria?”</p><p>         “You will be training” Cassian looks at him with hard eyes, the eyes of a General that just had to prove himself to children.</p><p>         “But-”</p><p>         “But nothing, Kallon. Don’t you think there are people I want to see on this holiday too? There’s about a million other places I would rather be tomorrow, but I will be here, trying to turn your sorry ass into a warrior, so I don’t want to hear it. You knew the deal that you made, and you know that it is better for her this way.”</p><p>         “Well even if it is, it’s a shit deal if I don’t get to see her”</p><p>         Cassian nods, huffing out a breath “tell me about it, kid.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>         Cassian does not expect to be woken up by a pillow hitting him in the face before the sun has risen, and he really does not expect to see his brothers, Feyre, and Mor standing over him. It takes a second for him to realize that he is actually awake.</p><p>         “What are you guys doing here?”</p><p>         “The last time I checked we still have a running tally on the most important fight of the year” Azriel grins down at him.</p><p>         Cassian blanches a little, they want to have their snowball fight? He is putting down a rebellion, telling Kallon that he can’t have the day off, breaking children’s ribs… and they want to have their snowball fight?</p><p>         “Guys, I meant it when I said that I couldn’t get away-”</p><p>         “As your High Lord I order you to take a day off and be pummelled by my frozen snowballs of death” Rhys’ voice is as serious as it is on the battlefield.</p><p>         Cassian scoffs “you never win. This fight is all Az and I.”</p><p>         “And you’re just going to hand me my one-hundred and ninety-first victory?”</p><p>         “Look, things have been a little-”</p><p>         “Rough? We know. That’s why we are here, and you are taking the day off. Need I remind you that it is your High Lady’s birthday?”</p><p>         Cassian turns to Feyre with a smile “happy birthday”</p><p>         “Thank you” she says quietly “I was actually hoping to see Nesta? She sent me a birthday present and I thought maybe that means she’s ready to spend a day like this with us”</p><p>         “I don’t think she is” Cassian lies easily, not showing the panic he feels inside at the fact that Nesta is definitely nowhere to be found in this camp “I think she is doing a little better, but definitely not in a holiday mood” that isn’t a lie. She especially isn’t ready to see Mor or Rhys based on what she had to say the last time he saw her. Granted that was a few months ago, but he knows Nesta, she is not one who wavers easily.</p><p>         Feyre nods sadly “well, maybe I’ll be able to convince her to do something for her birthday this year”</p><p>         “She isn’t here” Cassian admits smoothly “I left her with a friend at the Windhaven camp. She needed some space from me" not a lie "and this place is… too brutal for her, I wouldn’t be able to handle how these males might look at her” again, not a lie. It is one of the reasons he didn’t bring her to the mountains in the first place. He did have someone staying in windhaven with a friend… Terria. No need for anyone to know the finer details.</p><p>         “Ok, well tell her that wherever she is, Elain and I aren’t going to let her spend her birthday alone, so she has 3 months to be ok with seeing us again.”</p><p>         “I’ll let you deliver that message” Cassian scoffs, not particularly wanting to be on the other side of Nesta’s anger if she gets even an inkling that her sister is making an order of any kind, not that he thinks that is exactly what Feyre <em>means</em> to be doing, but- “wait, 3 months?”</p><p>         Feyre smiles “yeah, to the day actually. Nesta and I’s birthday’s are exactly 3 months apart”</p><p>         “So, she was born on the vernal equinox?” Rhys asks quickly, catching the look in Cassian’s eye.</p><p>         “Oh, I guess. That’s um.. sorry it’s so hard to keep all of these Fae holidays straight. We don’t celebrate the spring equinox in the Night Court, do we?”</p><p>         “No, but you could say that they celebrate it in Illyria. In their own way.” Rhys’ jaw is tight.</p><p>         “March 21<sup>st</sup> is the day when light and dark are equal, the first day of spring when life begins anew” Cassian pauses, needing a second.</p><p>         “It’s the day that the Blood Rite starts” Azriel finishes with a tight jaw.</p><p>         “Oh” Feyre is not sure what else to say, not fully comprehending the potential consequences.</p><p>         “Yeah, I need to hit you 2 in the face with snow” Cassian growls, letting Rhys grab his hand and winnow him away for a few blissful hours at the cabin.</p><p>
  
</p><hr/><p>         The winter solstice is not celebrated in the Day Court, and that is more than fine with Nesta. She never grew up with holidays of any kind, and it still feels strange. She had found an old-looking book on Fae fertility and pregnancy tricks in a quiet little shop in Sikur- the capitol city of day that she sees from her rooms, she had finally remembered to ask Helion for the name.</p><p>         She remembers Elain telling her a few months ago that Feyre was finding the process frustrating, so she bought the book, wrote a simple ‘happy birthday’ in the front cover, tied a bow around it and had Helion send it to the Night Court.</p><p>         Apparently winnowing and transporting things are not part of her substantial powers. Over the past months she has learned a lot about her powers, but when she thinks about it, it is more that she has learned a lot about herself and the powers have simply followed. Helion had spent a week just planting the image of Hybern inside of her brain, making her stare at it until she could control the blinding rage, until she could access the emotion, feel it in her chest and conjure that little airy white ball of power in her palm and hold it long enough to take careful aim, to release it slowly and carefully or to ramp it up and explode with it. She’s getting better, but the anger is still the hardest to manage.</p><p>         Her nightmares had gotten worse at first, but slowly, as she was forced to face the fear and anger and pain, they started to go away. The ability to control it followed, slowly, and not completely, but it did follow.</p><p>         Anger bubbled and boiled and exploded anything she hit with it. She took down an entire brick wall one day, nothing but a pile of russet dust was left in the end. Just a sliver of that power could take down a full grown warrior, Helion had told her. The entirety of it, properly held and focused- could take out an army.</p><p>         She saw the anger in his eyes at times, the feeling that they could have turned the war around, won more battles and lost fewer soldiers if he had this time with her before the fighting started. It wouldn’t have been enough, though, they both know that. The time that this is taking is not time that they had back then. Still, it would have been useful.</p><p>         Sometimes that anger, the blinding white power and clenched jaw feels like home, like her default.</p><p>         “There is a difference between anger and strength, Nesta.” Helion says quietly as she conjures and banishes endless balls of flickering white power “you have both, remember that. Controlling the anger- all of it, all of these emotions that are threatening to overflow inside of you, that is what gives you strength, and that is what truly defines you. The cauldron recognized that, and you will control this power once you recognize it yourself.”</p><p>         The advice helped her through sorrow, to stay in one piece even as Helion put the image of her father’s neck snapping into her mind over and over again. Once she managed that, held the grey mist to herself tightly enough, he replaced the image with Elain going into the cauldron. That was a mistake, looking at her laid out on the ground covered in that green liquid, it was too much. Nesta trembled and lost control of the power, sending grey mist seeping out of the library, under the door. It was wild and dark, moving on the air itself to seek an outlet, a throat to enter, a life to choke out. It can't find ti though, not the right life.</p><p>         “That won’t work” a strange new voice enters the fold, syllables tight as he speaks.</p><p>         “How do you know?”</p><p>         “Because it is something that still makes her sad, something that she has not yet conquered. Hyburn’s head was in her hands, she can feel and experience conquering that anger. Elain is still a Fae. She still feels like she failed her in that moment, knows that everything would be different if she could have been stronger.” he says the words as though he is speaking of Nesta, but it is clear in his creased face and downcast gaze that she is not the only one who feels that way about the cauldron.</p><p>         The truth in his words brings Nesta back, the image falls from her mind and the mist leaches away slowly, slipping into the air around them “what are you doing here, Cassian?” the words are not as angry as they may have once been.</p><p>         “I was forced to take a day off. I figured I might as well see how things are progressing. Also, your sister is asking for you.”</p><p>         Nesta swears under her breath “I shouldn’t have sent that book” she looks at him again “I’m not ready to see her, or any of them. Not yet.”</p><p>         “I know” and he does “I told her as much”</p><p>         Nesta nods a careful thanks and then inclines her head, surveying him “you are bleeding.”</p><p>         “It’s noth-” but she is already out of her chair, hand moving aside the tendrils of hair that have become matted in the shallow cut at his neck. Rhys wasn’t careful enough about avoiding ice.</p><p>         “Watch this” she smiles just a little, closing her eyes and touching a single soft finger to his neck. Cassian can feel the cut knit together instantly, like a cool breath of air dancing across his skin.</p><p>         “She is being modest, if you had a bigger injury she could handle that too” Helion smirks from his seat, but Cassian does not look at him. Cassian looks at Nesta, reaching back to grasp her healing hand in his own. He holds it gently, reverently.</p><p>         Cauldron boil him, Cassian was never prepared for this woman. She always appeared before him as something new and more incredible. He is not thinking when he mumbles out a gentle ‘thanks’ and then lifts her two middle fingers to his lips, kissing the soft skin that could give and take away life.</p><p>         “You do not look surprised” she says quietly, blue-grey eyes never leaving his as their bodies move more closely together, as if on instinct.</p><p>         “You could raise a new world on top of our own and it would not surprise me, Nesta.”</p><p>         “Why are you really here?”</p><p>         Cassian groans, moving even closer to her silk-covered body. Her dress drapes over one shoulder, leaving the entire other side fully bare and he knows that she can’t be wearing a bra under this soft material because the full firmness of her large breasts are pushed against his chest “you know why.”</p><p>         “Are you here to help me figure out what becomes of her powers during orgasm?” Helion chuckles amusedly at the abject horror on Nesta’s face as she pushes her body away from Cassian’s</p><p>         “Thanks a lot” Cassian grumbles at the High Lord.</p><p>         “I’m serious. Who knows what might explode out of her, I’ve been trying to convince her that it is a vital part of her training for weeks now”</p><p>         “And he’s been hiding all of the other men so who knows how much longer I’ll last” the easy banter that Nesta and Helion have fallen into surprises Cassian enough that his pants only grow a little tighter and he doesn’t have time to be jealous.</p><p>         Nesta was never like this at the Night Court. So free and unbound. It’s… exhilarating.</p><p>         “I thought this might be an opportunity to exchange information” he says, all business again as he moves to sit with them.</p><p>         “Ah ah ah” Helion holds up a finger “she is not done training yet, and you do not sit on my white couches in those fighting clothes. You may join us for dinner in 2 hours” it is a dismissal if Cassian has ever heard one, but he could use a long bath and a bit of time to himself if he’s being honest.</p><hr/><p>         Nesta has been staring down at her plate intently for the last several minutes while Cassian speaks, and even now that he is done. Helion is offering his services if need be to help in this brewing conflict. They keep dancing around the word. They say ‘rebellion’, ‘malcontent’, ‘concern’. No one is saying it and Nesta just cannot believe that she is going to spend the entirety of her immortal life fighting in and fearing the outcomes of the Night Court’s battles.</p><p>         “So, if your plan doesn’t work, if this <em>child</em> that you are placing the future of your people onto fails, then what?”</p><p>         “Then we will deal with that problem when it-”</p><p>         “It will be a civil war. You won’t say it, but you know it. We are on the edge of a <em>war</em> with the Illyrians.”</p><p>         The only thing that Cassian really registers beyond the fact that of course Nesta is right is that this is the first time she’s referred to herself and him or anyone in the Night Court as “we” since the war ended. He won’t lie to her, not that he ever could even if he wanted to “it is a possibility, yes”</p><p>         “When is the Blood Rite?” Helion keeps a careful eye on her as his jaw clenches</p><p>         “It begins March 21<sup>st</sup>” Cassian notes the way that Nesta’s eyes widen</p><p>         “It is the Vernal equinox” Helion explains.</p><p>         “It’s her birthday” Cassian supplies while Nesta is still working through the details of all of this. How close it is, how real it is that they could be thrust into another war.</p><p>         Where would she be in this one? What is the point of all the useless powers if she can’t protect anyone, does she have enough time to be able to protect…</p><p>         Nesta’s eyes lock with Cassian’s and he is out of his chair in a second, reaching for her. He knows that look, he saw it the night that Elain was taken. the cold, hard fear. It is like he can feel that flash of panic within himself before he even gets to her side. He is reaching for her but he cannot touch her. Something stops him.</p><p>         Nesta cannot do this again. She won’t watch him go into battle again, she won’t be the stupid girl sitting on a cliff watching the General fall from the sky. She won’t feel that pain again. She can’t, she can’t handle it. Not again, another war will break her. Nesta takes a breath and forces her gaze back to meet his, except that he is not in his chair anymore. He is beside her, trying to reach her. It is as if the world has frozen. She remembers her heartbeat rising, the fear, and then wishing that she was alone, that everyone would just leave her alone for a minute to think.</p><p>         She got her wish, she cannot hear a word that Cassian and Helion are saying, from the way they are going back and forth she imagines they are trying to figure out what is happening. She wanted a barrier, like the ones she can put up in her mind. She was afraid and she needed a minute of peace.</p><p>         Cassian and Helion both have eyes as wide as saucers as the transparent inky black mist dissolves away, no longer solid, no longer shielding her completely.</p><p>         “Fear” Helion says in awe and Nesta only nods.</p><p>         “Perhaps now it is time for me to listen, and you to provide information” Cassian moves himself into the chair beside Nesta, carefully placing a hand on her bare shoulder, waiting for her to shake him off or flinch away like a wounded doe. She does neither, in fact Cassian almost thinks that she leans her body into his touch just a fraction of an inch before tensing again.</p><p>         “Actually I think you just provided me with a vital piece of the puzzle” Helion says, not taking his eyes off of Nesta “everything she can do is connected to a feeling in some way, an emotion that she has to hone and control and master in order to be in control of the power” Cassian nods, following along so far.</p><p>         “At first I thought these powers were connected to life, the cauldron grants and creates life so when you took a piece of that I thought you got this harsh, carnal power because that is what life is at its core. I knew there was more to it though, something was missing.”</p><p>         “By all means, regale me” Nesta sighs, beginning to wonder if she is ever going to fully understand what this whirling mess of power inside of her actually is.</p><p>         “Picture this, a girl, born on the spring equinox, when light and dark are equal. Thrown into the very essence of life and death, to die in one body and be born in another. You did not take anything more than you were always meant to have, Nesta Archeron. The cauldron does not make these decisions, and even it can be deemed too powerful. We thought that you had ‘stolen’ because the cauldron was angry, but what if-”</p><p>         “it recognized something in her, something it didn’t want to. It didn’t want to yield, but it had to” </p><p>         Helion nods “I spent so long thinking about what it could be that drives the kind of power that can blindly crush and destroy, but also heal and protect. What drives that?”</p><p>         “I don’t understand what either of you are saying” Nesta is growing angrier by the second, hates feeling left out.</p><p>         “Balance, dear. Nature, the universe it is all about balance. One season will ebb into the next, light will overtake dark, death will conquer life” he pauses “and then just as quickly the next season comes, darkness snuffs out the light, and life overtakes death. On and on the cycle goes. There is no spring without winter, no light without dark, and no life without death”</p><p>         “Please” Nesta’s head feels like it is about to explode “stop speaking in riddles”</p><p>         “Think of it this way, as High Lord’s we each have powers connected to our title and lands, elemental powers or solar powers. Illyrians are fighters, they have siphon blasting and shielding powers. You emerged from the cauldron like an anchor between the world of mortals and the world of Fae. The needed balance between fleeting and immortal life, so your powers let you save or take away that life, as is required for balance.”</p><p>         “Why are they connected to my emotions, then?”</p><p>         “What could be more Fae than unbridled power?" Cassian slides his hand down her arm, reaching for her hand.</p><p>         "or more human than being a slave to one’s emotions” Helion shrugs</p><p>         Nesta is quiet for a long moment, both men’s gazes trained entirely on her as she shakes away from Cassian's touch and rests her head in her hands. She appears to be thinking, weighing pros and cons, figuring out her next move. What she says surprises both of them “I can’t be in a war until I know how to control all of this, how to save it and wield it, how to hurt and heal with precision.”</p><p>         “Nesta this would not be your war, no one would expect-”</p><p>         “I would” she turns to him quickly “I would expect myself to be there, to protect the people I care about. Of course it would be my war if it started. I don’t ask you people to run headfirst into these situations that have you all begging to be killed, but I sure as hell won’t sit on the sidelines while you do it.”</p><p>         “You show ‘em, girl” Helion snickers a little “you can be just as reckless and unnecessarily self-sacrificing as everyone else in the Night Court!”</p><p>         Nesta smiles a little “he’s right, I can be.” She does not want Helion to hear what she has to say next, so she goes out on a limb. Nesta turns to Cassian and brings her hands up to his face. She holds the 500 year-old war lord in between her delicate palms and just stares into his eyes, remembering every second of the last war when she didn’t know where he was or when she did but she wanted him to be anywhere else. She remembers the feeling of her heart falling into her stomach as he fell from the sky.</p><p>         It works, Nesta breathes when she feels the black mist surrounding them both this time, sealing them into their own moment. Cassian looks at her with complete wonder sparkling off the gold in his eyes “if you let this turn into a war, I will be there. I will run like an idiot onto the front lines and wipe out half of Illyria. If you let this war happen before I can control these powers I cannot promise you what will happen, Cassian.” She closes her eyes, letting him rest his forehead against hers, feeling the steady beat of his warrior’s heart as she continues “I don’t know why, I don’t know exactly what this is, but I experienced it on that battlefield, in that moment with Hybern. If you go back into a war, I will follow you and I can’t tell you right now if these powers are going to kill our enemies, or you, or me.”</p><p>         “I am doing everything in my power to avoid war, Nesta. Believe me” he lifts his hand to cover hers</p><p>         “I do” she feels the tears start to build in her eye and refuses to let it fall “I believe you, but I am scared for you”</p><p>         “For me? Nes, why?”</p><p>         “These are your people, Cassian. If it turns to war it just might break you in more ways than even your brothers can see”</p><p>         She’s right. It’s like a knife to his heart, but she is right. Rhys is a High Lord and Az has hated the brutal backwards illyrians his entire life. Neither of them would fight for the legions the way Cassian would, fight to avoid a war the way that he would, will.</p><p>         “I won’t let it come to war” he promises, clasping her hand tighter. He has broken too many promises to her before, he will <em>not</em> break this one. He can feel her calm a little as the black mist fades.</p><p>         “Oh me? I am doing alright, you know can’t really complain, but enough about that, you have a fresh new coat don’t you? I know you think that I don’t notice these things, but-”</p><p>         “Who are you talking to?” Cassian asks Helion with a furrowed brow.</p><p>         “Oh well, since my dinner companions so rudely mist-wall blocked me while I can only imagine they were making out like 2 teenagers without a parent-free house, I had to make do. The Southern wall over there and I were having a lovely chat about its new coat of paint before you <em>interrupted</em> us”</p><p>         Nesta literally buckling over with laughter to the point where tears start pouring out of her eyes and she is gasping for breath is a rare sight, but Cassian thinks that it is one everyone should see before they die, truly a wonder of the world.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I want to thank everyone who is reading this, it's become my isolation pet-project and I absolutely love to read comments from you guys. I really appreciate it!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. For a Second</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm a little nervous for this one, it's really going to set some things in motion and move towards some pretty big storylines coming to a head. I hope that you enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 8</strong>
</p><p>         “I feel like I’m in magical therapy” Nesta grumbles, wishing Helion would stop bringing up Cassian. Why can't anyone just leave her alone about that damn bat. She throws her legs over the arm of the overly plush chair and hangs her head back over the other arm, using the loose fabric at her sleeves to cover her eyes. It is not a very dignified position, but gods she needs a second of quiet.</p><p>         “The all-powerful balancer of worlds is hiding inside of a chiffon sleeve” Helion’s mocking tone has Nesta peeking out just enough to scowl at him “that is very scary, dear.”</p><p>         Nesta huffs out a sigh, moving her arm but not sitting up properly “I don’t want to talk about <em>him</em>” she lets her head lull to the side so that her eyes are boring into his, silver meeting gold “pick something else”</p><p>         “There is nothing else” he stares at her, calling for a glass of brandy to appear in front of her. Nesta grabs it quickly, desperate to shove this feeling down “you are angry at him for abandoning you, he has disappointed you which makes you sad, you’re afraid of how you feel for him- what it could mean, and as much as you deny it, he makes you happy” Helion pauses, letting her finish the drink “and despite all of this, there is still hope, you have both conquered all of these things-”</p><p>         “Except that we haven’t” Nesta spits at him “it’s not any better than Elain, I’m still angry because he is so stupid that he’s about to jump into another war, and I’m afraid because he’s such a damn martyr that he’s going to sign his own death certificate” Nesta puts the glass down with a shake of her head, hands fisting into her hair, tears starting to form “and I’m sad because he doesn’t care enough about me to stop doing shit like this, he never has. It <em>hurts</em>” the word is a strangled cry “people think that I don’t feel anything, that nothing bothers me but just because I don’t run around eye-fucking him like Feyre and Rhys or starting fights like Azriel when he is mooning over Mor doesn’t mean that I don’t care”  tears are streaming down her face now, grey and blue and black mist swirling around her like a tornado as she sits on her chair in that library under the setting Day Court sun and does what she has needed to do since the war ended. She cries.</p><p>         She cries for a life that she knew years ago, with a mother and a father. She cries for her sister having to go into those woods. She cries for the man that she spent years waiting for her father to be, for the man that she hated in that little cabin as he watched his daughters starve to death, and for the man that he was, good and bad parts alike. She cries for her sisters, both of them, for the life that they never asked for but have to live. She cries for this war that took so many people away. She cries for herself, for the girl that she was once, for the human girl that wanted to be loved, who put her faith in love with the kind of wide-eyed optimism that no one thought her capable of only to have the reality of the world, of men, smack her down. She cries for the human girl who held her spine straight as she exposed her throat to a hungry animal, for the girl that went into that cauldron with a death promise in her eyes and the female that carried it out. She cries because she was 23 and fighting a war that she never asked for, forced to control powers that she never understood. She cries because no one wanted her after the war, because she knew her sisters were dealing with their own shit, but… and there is the truth of it. She cries for the male who was supposed to be there with her, by her side. She cries for the General who belongs to the Night Court and not to her. He would never belong to her, nor she to him. They aren’t the sort of people who belong to someone else.</p><p>         She cries because she wishes that she were the kind of person who could belong to someone else, who could find easy solace in another person. She wishes that was her, she wishes that she was open and easy to love like Elain, that she wore her heart on her sleeve and ran headfirst into things like Feyre. She wishes that she was a delicate little flower that could fold itself into someone else's arms for comfort, but she isn’t, and she never will be.</p><p>         Nesta takes a deep breath and does what she is best at, she puts her emotions back inside of her, deep down, where no one can see them. The mist falls in useless, sparkling tendrils around her.</p><p>         “Joy, Nesta. Find the joy” are Helion’s first words when she can look at him again. He seems entirely unsurprised by her breakdown, as if he had been banging the edge of a jar against a counter and finally saw it pop open, spilling over.</p><p>         “There is no joy”</p><p>         “Yes there is. This is it, you need to find the seconds of joy inside of all the rest. Balance, Nesta, balance it out. Find it, I know that you can”</p><p>         Helion’s large, warm eyes pin her in place, tears still pouring down her cheeks. He puts another drink in front of her and she swallows it in an instant.</p><p>         Joy, find the joy. Her mother, not all of her but Nesta’s 6<sup>th</sup> birthday party. Mother wasn’t tied up with anything else, Feyre and Elain were too little to steal the attention away, she wore a new blue dress and played with mother and father all day.</p><p>         Going to the market with Feyre and Elain was fun, even if her sister held the purse strings tight, Nesta knew there would be something fun or exciting and Elain was always so happy.</p><p>         Tomas made her happy once, but all of those memories are burned like ash, drenched in gasoline in her mind. Maybe she was capable of being loved before he did what he did to her. She liked how it felt when she thought he loved her.</p><p>         She didn’t hate being a part of the war as a human as much as she let on, it was nice to be a part of something, having seen it all she was glad to do something. She’d never had a match in the way that Cassian was, a challenge. In her human body it had been so fleeting and exciting in such an easy way. Nothing would ever happen.</p><p>         She skips over the cauldron. There is no joy there. Cassian reaching for her did not make her happy, it made her want to sob. They were both broken and powerless in that moment, something that neither of them truly are. There were moments in her fae life though, stolen conversations, careful hands, worried glances. A conversation in the Dawn Court, a whispered confession before battle.</p><p>         There were moments, moments that made her smile. She will never look at the moment she called him from the sky as a bad thing. He hates her for it, but she would do it 100 times over.</p><p>         Her father, even that last whispered ‘I love you’ that is soaked in such sorrow and regret has its seconds of joy, of contentment.</p><p>         Ripping Hybern’s head off, that second of pride as Elain stabbed him, protecting her. The hard body underneath her, the protective arm, the sweltering intensity of the moment that had her ready to die with…</p><p>         The gentle smile she had formed at the memories falls away. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters because it all amounted to nothing. A stolen moment in the mud of a battle does not lead to happily ever after. She is not Feyre or Elain. She does not give and receive love so easily. What does it say about her that msot of the moments of joy in her fae life are with this male that she can barely even look in the eye most days. Nesta deals in absolutes, certainties. She is weary of anyone who cannot provide a certainty, and Cassian… he is as uncertain as it gets.</p><p>         “You had it, I felt it. For a second, you had it”</p><p>         “yeah” Nesta admits tiredly “for a second, I had it.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>         “You were gone yesterday” Kallon accuses at the crack of dawn “you said you would not take solstice off, that we were all to train, but then you were gone”</p><p>         Cassian scoffs, tightening the loops on his leathers “I was called away by the High Lord.”</p><p>         “Illyrians will never bow to the power of someone who is not one of them” his words are abrupt, though in a way Cassian has seen this conversation coming for some time now.</p><p>         “Rhysand is one of them. He is more Illyrian than any High Lord before”</p><p>         Now it is Kallon’s turn to scoff “he is just Illyrian enough to remind us all that he is not. The High Lord’s before him had no issue with letting us do exactly as we wished. Rhysand is just enough of an Illyrian that he makes commands.”</p><p>         “It is his job to make commands.”</p><p>         “It is why people are rebelling.”</p><p>         Cassian stops, turning an incredulous eye to the boy “first you tell me that you and all the novices are rising up because Rhys isn’t doing enough for the females, and now you tell me that the rebellions are because he <em>is</em> making these commands?”</p><p>         “It isn’t about the female's for the others” Kallon shakes his head, stepping into the ring. They begin a light spar as they speak “they are rebelling against being given orders when they never were in the past. The novices and I only started talking of our own uprising because we knew there was an opportunity, a weakness”</p><p>         “So what are you saying?” Cassian asks with a sigh as he picks up his wooden training stick, not in the mood for any more riddles right now.</p><p>         “after the Blood Rite, no matter what you do there will be a fight” Kallon’s punch is easily blocked by Cassian who swears under his breath “all you have to ask is if you want a battle, or a war”</p><p>         “and how do we avoid a war?” Cassian won’t let the desperation to keep his promise into his voice as he lands a blow.</p><p>         Kallon hits the ground, looking up with a shrug “the Illyrians will only ever take commands from an Illyrian.”</p><p>         “That’s why I am the General”</p><p>         “You’re the general of all the Night Court’s armies though, and outside of training… you can’t tell us anything without the power of the High Lord behind you” Kallon pauses, standing and quickly landing a hit to Cassian’s jaw “Illyria has lords in every camp, don’t you think we need a Lord in charge of them. One of us to lead”</p><p>         “And I suppose this is your application?” Cassian scoffs, sending the boy flying across the ring. When he fights his way back to his feet Kallon rolls his eyes.</p><p>         “No you idiot. What do Illyrians respect above everything?”</p><p>         “Strength” Cassian says immediately, siphons flaring as he counters the next hit easily.</p><p>         “Exactly, strength. Not power, not mystically given magical abilities, but strength. Pure, hard-earned, battle-forged strength” he stops, spitting blood outside of the ring “got any ideas about someone stronger than every lord in Illyria, but still loyal to the Night Court?”</p><p>         “I don’t want the job” Cassian scoffs when he realizes what the boy is suggesting.</p><p>         “Tough. I don’t want to be training, I don’t want to be separated from my mate, but we make sacrifices for the things we care about. What do you care about, <em>Lord</em> Cassian?”</p><p>         It’s the first time Kallon manages to knock him down with his hit, because he is distracted, in shock. Cassian just stares up at the boy.</p><p>         “If you care about her enough to let the likes of me knock you on your ass, then you care enough about her to get the hell over yourself.” Cassian doesn’t ask how the boy knows that it is about a female. Isn’t it always?</p><p>         “Do you even know what you’re saying”</p><p>         “Yes. Probably better than you do.” Cassian kicks up, hitting his target easily before righting himself “I’ve thought about this a lot, just hear me out-”</p><p>         “Get through the Rite first” Cassian spits “get through the Rite and then I’ll do whatever is necessary to avoid a war. Anything.”</p><p>         Kallon nods “then hit me again.”</p><p>         It’s 20 minutes of careful jabs before Cassian releases Kallon to spar with the other novices that are just entering the fighting rings.</p><p>         “Why do you always train him?” one of the other boys asks, a smaller boy who is an ally of Kallon’s if Cassian has deduced correctly from his observing of the boy. He looks hurt “is it because he is a Lord’s son? So he deserves better?”</p><p>         “No” Cassian says earnestly, levelling the boy with his gaze. He sees it then, the worn boots and sallow cheeks “I train him because he is awake and in the ring before and after dawn, just like I am.”</p><hr/><p>         The boy is waiting in the ring the next morning before sunrise and Cassian smiles a little. Even Kallon hasn’t arrived yet “alright, what’s your name if you’re going to be joining us?”</p><p>         “Braken” he says, holding out a hand to shake. Cassian grabs it and flips the boy onto his back easily.</p><p>         “Lesson one, never let yourself be vulnerable to an enemy”</p><p>         “But you aren’t-”</p><p>         “Lesson 2, everyone is an enemy until proven otherwise.”</p><p>         Braken is getting himself back onto his feet, nodding when Kallon enters the ring and Cassian motions for them both to stand in front of him. “Lesson 3, once someone is proved not to be an enemy, stick with them if at all possible. Strength is in numbers.”</p><p>         “People get separated in the Rite” Kallon points out, eyeing his new sparring partner</p><p>         “I don’t just mean the Rite. The bonds you make training, they stick. It can help in the Rite too though, find each other. That’s what I did.”</p><p>         “You didn’t do it alone?”</p><p>         “No one does anything alone, not really. Especially not in battle, being in a legion means being a small part of a larger conscious.”</p><p>         The 3 of them form a sort of anti-sun fight club. The hour before the sun rises and the hour after it sets every day they train. Cassian spars with the 2 novices for those hours and the strongest among the adult males while the sun is up to avoid being questioned again. Honing his skills, never letting himself be soft. Getting a foothold on Ironcrest is enough to make the other camps cool it as well. Azriel reports no new malcontents, says that some of the ones in farther south camps have pretty much lost fuel entirely. It’s the Rite, the nearer it draws the more focused everyone is. It doesn’t mean the revolutions have been snuffed out, but they have settled, retreated for now. Which means he can’t put off this conversation any longer.</p><hr/><p>         Cassian has never wished that he could winnow so badly. The flying is good exercise for his wings, and he has been grounded in the Ironcrest camp for long enough that they could use a stretch. It's not the physical exertion that he despises, but the time to think, to agonize over the conversation that he has to have. It isn’t that long of a flight to the new pillar of the Night Court, but it feels like days before he finally glides down onto the stone walkway outside of the river palace. The homestead.</p><p>         “Cass?” his brother's confused expression makes him sigh. He is not looking forward to this conversation.</p><p>         “Where’s Feyre?”</p><p>         “Teaching a class, she will be back soon”</p><p>         “Az?”</p><p>         “on the roof, I think”</p><p>         Cassian sighs “get him, we need to talk”</p><p>         The High Lord looks intrigued enough that he doesn’t ask any other questions “and hello to you too, brother.”</p><p>         Cassian lets himself into the manor home and waits a few minutes for his brothers to join him in the main living room “Is this an official meeting?” Rhys asks, surprised by the hard expression.</p><p>         “Partially. I need to talk to you 2 as a General” he pauses “and then I need to talk to you and Feyre once she’s back, as your brother”</p><p>         Rhys nods, sitting down beside Azriel on the couch “consider me intrigued.”</p><p>         “After the Rite I need the entire Inner Circle to come to Ironcrest. The other camps have focused on the Rite and dropped a lot of their rebellion, so if we can show a strong front, quickly oust Raliar, and put down anyone who might rise up then it will send a clear message to the other camps”</p><p>         “And you think that is possible?” Azriel asks skeptically “to take on an entire angry Illyrian camp by ourselves?”</p><p>         “All of the novices will be too exhausted from the Rite, so the ones who are on our side and the ones who aren’t will cancel each other out. It’s a toss up how many warriors will actually rise up to oppose putting in a new lord, but-” Cassian smirks “I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve, which I will share when Feyre returns.”</p><p>         “What is to stop them from rising up as soon as we leave?” Azriel is a few steps ahead of him</p><p>         “Because I won’t be leaving”</p><p>         “Excuse me?” Rhys’ jaw tenses and he stares at his brother “you are my General, you can’t just move to some war camp forever”</p><p>         “I’m not going to be in the Ironcrest camp, I’m going to be setting up a new holding right in between the Mountains and the Steppes, in the exact center of the Illyria, only a few hours flight from here. That way if we need to handle something I can be there before it becomes an issue.”</p><p>         “We can winnow Cas-” Rhysand starts, but Cassian shakes his head.</p><p>         “I can’t have an eye on things from all the way in the south like this. Even Az’s shadows struggle to manage the Illyrians. It’s too vast of a territory”</p><p>         “So, what? In a couple months we will go fight this battle and then I leave you behind? Cassian I meant what I said earlier, I can’t have my general living so far away, what about the rest of the Night Court forces? The ones who aren’t Illyrian?”</p><p>         “You’re going to have to find a new General, Rhys.”</p><p>         “Excuse me?” plumes of dark blue power ebb and snake around Rhys' arms and torso with his indignation.</p><p>         “The Illyrians don’t respect authority outside of themselves, a lot of them hate me for being a bastard, but they will respect strength. The kind of constantly present strength and involvement in the advancement of the camps that you simply can’t provide while still doing all of the other things required of a High Lord.”</p><p>         “Az can-”</p><p>         “Az hates the illyrians”</p><p>         “Couldn’t triple my salary to go live in those miserable mountains again” he scoffs and Cassian nods.</p><p>         “The uprisings, why the people are so upset, it’s so much more nuanced than we imagined. They feel put down, unheard, subjugated. We need to give them someone with a high place in the Court that they can turn to, who can guide them for you, but also advise you about them”</p><p>         “So we get rid of all the camp Lord’s and make you Lord of illyria?” Rhys is contemplative now, seeing the merits of the plan.</p><p>         “No, we can’t change their whole order, and you know how I hate titles. We can just say that I’m a… liason, emissary to Illyria, if you will.”</p><p>         “That won’t work” the voice that joins them is higher pitched, she strolls calmly into the room, perching beside Rhys, hands still covered in dry paint “if we want this to work, and I think it could work-” Feyre pauses, smirking a little as she and Rhys have some sort of annoying telepathic conversation in their heads.</p><p>         “We will have to make you a King” Rhys shrugs as he says the words, so simply. Like it is a no brainer.</p><p>         “It will work” Feyre says at Cassian’s doubting expression “the King of a people still within the court, Illyria can be its own land, make its own decisions and abide by its own cultures, under the overarching rule of the Night Court, of course”</p><p>         “I don’t want to be a king” that is not the sort of thing that Cassian ever considered. <em>Prince of bastards</em> the Bone Carver had called him once. A taunt, or a prediction?</p><p>         “It’s perfect when you think about it” Rhys continues “it could only ever work because you are my brother. You are more Illyrian than anyone, you believe in them and will fight for them, but you also believe in what is right, in justice for Illyrian females”</p><p>         “It makes sense, Cass. I can’t think of anything that makes more sense” Azriel speaks for the first time since Feyre entered.</p><p>         “There’s something else I need to talk to you about” Cassian turns to his High Lord and Lady, not entirely sold on this matter but knowing that if he doesn’t move on to what he has to say next he might just lose the courage that he has built up. “Az I’ll come find you before I leave” the shadowsinger bows his head in acknowledgement, catching on to the meaning in Cassian’s tone and not wanting to be a part of this conversation.</p><p>         “Is this about my sister?” Feyre asks carefully</p><p>         “In a way”</p><p>         “What has she done now?” Rhys scowls.</p><p>         “Nothing. Actually, I came to talk about what <em>we</em> did” Feyre raises an eyebrow “we failed her, I failed her more than anyone else and I am… working through that. After the war we let her fall through the cracks.”</p><p>         Feyre nods “I know” she looks sad “I didn’t realize how difficult things were for her, Nesta has always been so strong that I just-”</p><p>         “We fucked up” he shrugs, ignoring the look that Rhys is giving him “her behavior wasn’t great either, but I have come to learn what she has truly been struggling with and I should have been there for her.”</p><p>         “I am glad she is opening up to you” Feyre smiles</p><p>         “She hasn’t. Well I suppose she has berated me, but I am not the one she is opening up to. I am not the one who has been able to help her”</p><p>         “Please, Regale us” Rhys leans back against the couch.</p><p>         “You made a bad call” he looks Feyre dead in the eye “I failed Nesta about 100 times after the battle, but you made the wrong order. She is not a warrior. she never wanted to train, even in the war. She wasn’t like you, Feyre. She didn’t want to be a warrior, but… there was something she needed to face. We focused on her attitude and ignored the cause. She has all of this raw power swirling inside of her and I knew that it was still there. I didn’t take her to the mountains with me”</p><p>         He waits for the anger, for Rhys or Feyre to get mad and yell and demand to know where Nesta was “you took her to Helion, didn’t you?” it is Rhysand who speaks.</p><p>         Cassian nods “that was the trick up my sleeve I mentioned earlier. Helion agreed to help us take back Illyria. I don’t see how they could beat the powers of 2 High Lords.”</p><p>         Rhys nods, smiling a little at the pre-ordained victory.</p><p>         “I don’t understand, Nesta is in the Day Court?” Feyre blinks.</p><p>         “She has been since the day we left. You should see her now, the strides she has made in a few months with Helion, I cannot even describe what has become of her powers or how much freer she seems”</p><p>         Feyre smiles and even Rhys manages to bite his tongue, not saying anything about his least favorite sister-in-law.</p><p>         “I was playing around with the idea of staying in the mountains before, I wasn’t sure how it might work, but if I’m being honest the thing that made up my mind… was her” Cassian rings his hands a little “I made mistakes, but I still hope that she will forgive me someday, and if she ever does, I can’t bring her here. I can’t ask her to stay here.”</p><p>         “What do you mean?” Feyre’s eyes are flashing now, upset and confused.</p><p>         “I won’t ask her to stay somewhere that she can be banished when her actions do not suit another person. Nesta would be miserable living like that, she deserves to be free.”</p><p>         “I never-”</p><p>         “I know you didn’t mean to, Feyre. It was good that you made her leave Velaris, she was unhappy here. She would probably always be unhappy here, there are too many wounds. I can’t… I can’t even explain it exactly, just see her. See her in the Day Court and you will understand, you will see what I mean.”</p><p>         Feyre nods quietly “I just want her to be happy”</p><p>         “I know you do, so do I. It’s hard. All of this is so hard and I forget how young you and Elain and Nesta are sometimes. You have been through so much and I forget.” He pauses, monitoring Rhys’ face, Feyre is so obviously telling him in her head not to bite Cassian’s head off for questioning his mate’s choices “Nesta’s birthday is the day that the Rite starts” he states calmly “I’ve already spoken to Helion. We will all stay at the Day Court while the Rite happens, we will celebrate the Equinox and her birthday as a family, and then we will walk into battle and create a new illyria, as a family.”</p><p>         Rhys stands up, wings flaring behind him as he walks to face his brother. Cassian mirrors the movement, not sure what to expect. Rhys raises a hand and puts it on Cassian’s shoulder, gripping firmly "are you certain that this is worth it, brother? That all of this is... what you want?"</p><p>         Cassian doesn't even blink, his brother is not as sly as he thinks he is "She's worth it, Rhys."</p><p>         The High Lord nods, sensing not to push the issue. Nesta Archeron may not be one of his favorite people, but Cassian is, and he has yet to meet a male whose instincts he trusts so completely. It's why losing him as a General is such a blow. “You really are more than just a pretty face and a strong sword, aren’t you?” they all laugh and Cassian punches Rhys in the arm lightly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I hope everyone still likes the direction that the story is going, I've had the idea of Cassian leading an independant illyria for a while now, and it was really important to me that Cassian stand up against Rhys and Feyre before he and Nesta could move forward in any way. I know that some people might not love sending the IC into the Day Court for Nesta's birthday and the whole fight as a family thing, but I just want to say don't worry- she will get to say her piece!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. One Battle at a Time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A bit of a shorter chapter to set up the mass meeting of characters that is just on the horizon ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 9:</strong>
</p><p>            Weeks pass in a blur of deathly focused repetition and dedication for both Nesta and Cassian. Neither of them know what is happening with the other, the progress that is being made- or not made. No, the only person who is really fully aware of everything happening in the Illyrian camps and the Day Court is Helion. The High Lord of Day is not sure exactly when he transitioned from living his best carefree life just luring attractive males and females into his bed and ruling his empire to acting as a glorified kindergarten principal for the Night Court.</p><p>            He grabs a pen and paper while Nesta has her eyes closed, focusing on trying to heal a wounded Lesser Fae. Any time there is a harvest injury now- which is not often, but happens enough for there to be a protocol, he has them brought here. She can work more quickly and permanently than any healer in Prythian so it’s really a win-win. He can see a smile just playing on the corners of her mouth and feels like a proud coach. She’s getting better, the emotions are easier to control now, to summon and banish as needed.</p><p>            <em>Progress Update? </em>He sends the enchanted sheet of paper off, knowing that the Commander should be taking his lunch break any minute now.</p><p>            <em>Kid is doing better, the boy I’m trying to make him ally with is stronger, though. Picture a young Rhys and a young me.</em></p><p><em>            I take it you fancy yourself the more powerful one? </em>Helion scoffs a little, impressed when it does not break Nesta’s concentration at all.</p><p>
  <em>            Obviously. And Rhys is the spoiled little Lordling that needed to fall on his face a few times before he was worth anything in a real fight.</em>
</p><p>            A few minutes pass while Helion just watches Nesta, nodding encouragingly at the Fae she is working on, who stares at him with a look that is equal parts fear and amazement. Another note comes and Helion smirks.</p><p>            <em>How is she doing?</em></p><p>
  <em>            Of whom are you speaking? There are so many females about my palace…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>            Prick. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>            Nesta is doing very well, she is reattaching a leg that was hanging by a thread of muscle as we speak.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>            I didn’t know she could do that.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>            Just imagine what she could do if you gave her some more happy memories to draw from.</em>
</p><p>            Nesta looks up when he chuckles, but not because her concentration is broken, the opposite in fact. She is done, and what was once a gruesome wound is now nothing but a light pink scar.</p><p>            “I will admit that I don’t know exactly how this works, so just stay off of it for a few days and if something goes wrong come back here immediately” Nesta orders the young male who nods vigorously.</p><p>            “Of course, thank you. The healer in the field said that I might never be able to walk again, but this… it’s basically fixed already” he is staring at Nesta as if she created life in front of him, and she looks horribly uncomfortable.</p><p>            “Alydhia” Helion calls to the servant he trusts most, the only person he knew could handle Nesta. She appears almost immediately “please see our guest home and have Trina keep an eye on him for the next few days” she nods simply and begins to lead the male out of the room. He is walking on his own, which is a very encouraging sign.</p><p>            “You’re getting much better at that” Helion nods approvingly.</p><p>            “I’m still better at blasting the training dummies into bits, though.”</p><p>            “I would imagine anger is an easier emotion to come by”</p><p>            She nods, contemplating “it is, but it is also harder to control. The others I am learning that when I conjure them I am in control, I can push and pull when needed, draw on less or more power. Any time I think of something that makes me angry though… it’s like a floodgate, it just pours out of me and I can’t control how much I release”</p><p>            That is understandable, he supposes. The girl is practically boiling over with unexpressed anger, she either pushes it down or throws it all out at once “we will spend the rest of the week on the roof instead of in the library” he nods and Nesta grimaces a little. She hates the rooftop training ground, but perhaps his indulgence of her is why she is not as far along with the power that will be most useful in battle. A battle that is coming, which he will have to inform her of eventually. Damn bats and their perpetual inability to talk to a female.</p><p>            “I’m better than when I got here, right?” her voice dips a little.</p><p>            “Of course you are, you are much more in control than before, and what we know of your powers is-”</p><p>            “no” she cuts him off with a quiet voice “no, I mean… as me, not as a power well, but as a person” she looks down, wringing her hands “I’ve never really been what people want me to be, likeable or sweet or demure. I’m angry and vengeful and everything just burns with so much icy passion that I don’t know what to do with it, but I think that I’ve been better, since I’ve been here.”</p><p>            “I hate that word” Helion tells her, shaking his head “’better.’ Who gets to decide what version of you is better? I don’t, and Rhysand sure as fuck doesn’t.” Helion sees the uncharacteristically vulnerable widening of her eyes and realizes that it is not the High Lord of the Night Court who has brought on this doubt. “No one that you are related to can decide this for you, Nesta. I don’t know who you were as a human, but as a Fae you are a strong, determined, cutthroat, vindictive little bitch” he cracks a massive smile “like every other Queen in history. Anyone who might try to change you, to make you into something that you are not can go jump into the Sydra for all that I am concerned” Helion shrugs easily “any male that tries to quell your flaming passion is intimidated, because he knows that you could kick his ass, and any female who tries to make you ‘nice’ is a brainwashed, useless piece of ornamentation. You are life Nesta Archeron, in all of its best and worst expressions. There will be people in your long existence who will not understand that, but you can’t let them win, and any second that they are inside of your head, making you second guess yourself, they are winning.”</p><p>            Nesta swallows hard “I’ve never really-” she pauses, contemplating her words “I’ve never felt like I belonged anywhere before”</p><p>            “You belong wherever you choose to be” he nods with the confidence of his nearly 1000 years of life “you are welcome here as long as you want and any time in the future. I am honoured by every second that you spend under my roof.”</p><p>            Every second that Feyre didn’t want her in the Night territory flashes before Nesta’s eyes and she refuses to look emotional as she chokes out “Why?”</p><p>            “Because you are more than just raw power to be used and wielded as a sword. You are a smart, determined, dedicated young High Fae and the Day Court is lucky to have you with us, to learn from and about you.”</p><p>            “You said that others don’t get to decide if I am better or not, but what about-”</p><p>            Helion doesn’t make her say it, he cuts her off with a roll of his honey-coloured eyes “you young people are all the same, so unsure and insecure. Cassian would rip the wings off of his back and lay them at your feet just to be in your presence. He would have done it in the last battle, and he would do it now.”</p><p>            “I don’t think that is true” Nesta scoffs, wrapping her arms around herself.</p><p>            “Then it is a good thing that I am the teacher, and you the student.”</p><p>
  
</p>
<hr/><p>            Azriel has joined Cassian in the Ironcrest camp, and he looks miserable. The shadowsinger is sitting about 50 feet away from the training rings, perched high up and looking over the camp. Him being near, casting himself out to other camps, checking in on training and the progression of the Rite, is necessary but not pleasant.</p><p>            “Should I be concerned that <em>2</em> of the High Lord’s trained dogs are in my camp?” Raliar walks up behind Cassian as he trains one day. One of the only times he has seen the Lord since arriving. He appears to be a bit of a coward, preferring to make orders rather than go out and fight himself.</p><p>            “Maybe” Cassian looks the man dead in the eye, flaring his wings out “or maybe we are just here to oversee the Blood Rite, as I stated when I arrived.”</p><p>            “You have been spending a lot of time with my son.”</p><p>            “I train whoever is in the ring before and after everyone else” he shrugs “your kid likes to come at me, so I let him.”</p><p>            “What about me?” the Lord stretches to his full height, 2 siphons flaring “If I were to arrive in the ring tomorrow at dawn?”</p><p>            Cassian smirks a little, crossing his arms “if you entered the same ring as me, <em>Lord</em> Raliar, I would toss you out of it quicker than that group of novices that were stupid enough to challenge me.”</p><p>            Unlike puffed up illyrian novices, Raliar is not blinded by ego. He knows that he would not win a fight against Cassian. Few warriors in all of Prythian would even stand a fair shot, and this Lord is not one of them. He was formidable enough in his day, but his day has long past, and they both know it. He just grunts “you’ll be headed back to your master after the Rite?”</p><p>            Cassian smirks “trust me I don’t want to be here any longer either. I’ll leave the night it ends.” <em>You won’t be in charge of this camp anymore by then, but… semantics</em>, he thinks with a mental grin.</p><p>           "Good, I've got enough bastards to worry about in this camp. Hoping the Rite will take a few of them off my hands" Raliar turns a wickedly gleaming stare to where Braken is soundly besting another novice.</p><p>            Cassian bristles only a little as he stares the male down, satisfied at the way he seems to shrink. He steps closer to him, wings flaring out, and then bumps right past the Lord whose days are numbered and returns to his perch beside Azriel to watch the fighting.</p><p>            “The kid certainly looks stronger than when he was in Velaris.”</p><p>            “Yeah, he better be. I’ve been up dawn to dusk training him. Both of them” Cassian juts his head to the two boys sparring different opponents side by side “he’s better- faster, stronger, might even be a good warrior one day, but this… summating Ramiel, you don’t know if a person can do that until they stand in front of the mountain.”</p><p>            Azriel nods “you’ve been out here too long, brother.”</p><p>            “This is where I belong, Az. I always have, you and Rhys hate it here, but I don’t. This is my home, this is where I turned myself into something, became something.”</p><p>            “and soon you will preside over the entire territory” Azriel smirks and Cassian punches him in the arm.</p><p>            “I don’t want that, but…”</p><p>            Azriel hums in understanding “I get it” he nods, things have always been different for Cassian. Azriel might be a bastard, but he is a Lord's bastard, and Rhys might be a halfbreed, but he is the most powerful High Lord in hystory. Cassian always had to be better, stronger, fight harder. He has always been the most Illyrian of the 3. “besides, we both know that Nesta is too proud to ever return to Velaris.”</p><p>            Cassian turns to him, surprised “did Rhys-”</p><p>            “No one had to tell me. I know you, there is only one real reason that you would choose to move back to these mountains and claim a title that you have no interest in, that will sting every time someone calls you by it. It’s smart, a good plan, but it isn’t about the plan. It’s about her, isn’t it?”</p><p>            Cassian just nods, sighing out a heavy breath “yeah. It’s about her, it always has been when I think about it. From the day we walked into that house in the human lands. I haven’t shown her that, though.”</p><p>            “You have always stuck by her” Azriel defends</p><p>            “No, I haven’t. I have always tolerated her, put up with her, chased her through streets and watched her to make sure she was safely home, but I was so angry with her for so long. I didn’t think about the things she went through, how bloody young she is. I was just angry and selfish, and… I wasn’t there for her, when she needed me. I won’t make that mistake again.”</p><p>            “She doesn’t make it easy to be there for her”</p><p>            Cassian sighs “you didn’t even know Elain before the cauldron. Not at all, but while she was in her trance, you were there for her. You watched her, and talked to her, and planted flowers with her. You were more there for Elain in those months than I was for Nesta after the war, and I made a promise to her.”</p><p>            “It is easy to know how to help Elain. She is soft and sweet, and you can just be there for her. Nesta and Feyre are the same in that regard, they don’t want anyone’s sympathy. They won’t admit when they need help.”</p><p>            “I’m the one who should know how to help Nesta, though.”</p><p>            “Why?”</p><p>            “You know why.”</p><p>            Azriel nods simply “I have never seen you like this over a female, I never imagined you would care for someone so… complicated.”</p><p>            “Neither did I, but there is no female like Nesta. She is entirely her own creature.”</p><p>            Azriel looks down on the camp, shifting his gaze about, shadows leaving and returning “you should get back to the novices. One battle at a time, General.”</p><p>            “Yeah. One battle at a time.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. What You Wish For</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Sorry for the delay everyone, I'm a law student working with a firm for the summer so I had a lot of time while the courts were closed, but now that things are opening a bit writing has taken a back seat. I hope this is worth the wait though... the long awaited confession ;)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <strong>Chapter 10:</strong>
</p><p>         Helion braces for anger, knowing why he chose the rooftop training facility to deliver this news. He is shocked and impressed when only one of the dummies explodes.</p><p>         “You’re getting better at controlling that.”</p><p>         “I don’t want to see them yet” Nesta’s gaze remains on the shards of foam and metal that she just sent into oblivion.</p><p>         “A quarter century of life is an event worth celebrating” Helion smiles a little, trying to pull her around to the idea.</p><p>         “I’m an infant compared to you. I can’t imagine you still care for birthdays after a millennium.”</p><p>         “I care for excuses to throw a party” he smiles a little, baring glittering white teeth “the spring equinox is an event in the day court, to be sure, but nothing like the summer solstice or-”</p><p>         “I don’t celebrate fae holidays” Nesta’s voice is stern.</p><p>         “Wonderful, then we will not. We will celebrate your day of birth instead” he grins, proud of the trap that he has set.</p><p>         “Why do you care so much that I celebrate my birthday?”</p><p>         Helion sighs, taking in the careful set of her eyes, the intelligence in them, seeing through his front “I do want to celebrate your birthday, really, I do. We all do, but-”</p><p>         “It will prelude a battle” the new voice sets Nesta’s spine straight and she takes a deep breath in, unsure how to react. Should she run to him? Launch herself into his arms the way her pathetic heart bids, or stay deathly silent and utter a barbed insult as her pride seems to demand.</p><p>         As usual, Nesta’s pride wins out “you want to use me as a weapon once more?”</p><p>         “You don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to. That’s why I came here first. I want to tell you the whole plan and you can decide if you want to be a part of it or not.” Cassian moves closer to her and Nesta finds herself doing the same. “Is there somewhere we can talk alone?”</p><p>         “Oh, you’re not planning to just launch up a little wind shield and ignore me again?” Helion smirks, flipping the trailing cape of his white robes behind him “I’ll be in the East library when you are finished, Nesta.”</p><p>         “How are you?” Cassian’s voice is quiet, eyes burning into her.</p><p>         “Better” she admits with a soft breath out.</p><p>         “I spoke to Rhys and Feyre” his words are abrupt</p><p>         “I would assume, considering you have come here with a battle plan.”</p><p>         “Not just about that. I didn’t come to you once, and I don’t plan on making the same mistake again. I am here before this battle, and no matter if you choose to be there or not, as soon as it is over I will come back to you, if you still want me to.”</p><p>         “So we go to battle for the glory of Illyria, and then you come back here to me and what? What happens when all of this is over, Cassian? I can’t live my life battle to battle, just coping and training and-” she sighs “I don’t know, none of this is-”</p><p>         “What you want your life to be, I know. That was the other thing I talked to Rhys and Feyre about. I’m not going to be the General of the Night Court anymore.” Nesta’s eyes go wide “I’m going to move to illyria permanently to keep the peace there.”</p><p>         Nesta looks up at him, not sure what to say. She notices that his wings are tucked tightly against his back and she hates the idea that she is tying him down.</p><p>         “why?”</p><p>         “Because I knew you could never live in Velaris again.”</p><p>         She takes a deep breath in “I can’t let you do this because of me”</p><p>         “I’m not expecting anything from you, Nesta, but I am not going to tip toe around this anymore. I am in love with you, and I know that you aren’t in a place to reciprocate that, but it’s true. I have been in love with you since the second I saw you, even as a human. You are the strongest, smartest, most infuriating female that I have ever met, and I’m not going to be an idiot and walk away from you again. I am here. Finally, I am here in front of you and I am not going anywhere.” He pauses, stepping closer so that they are nearly chest to chest. “So yes, I am doing this for you, and there is nothing that you can do about it.” He smirks.</p><p>         Nesta’s teeth dig into her bottom lip and she can’t pull her eyes away from his no matter how much she wants to look at anything that is not his searing gaze. “I’m not ready to love anyone yet, Cassian” he nods easily “I’ve always thought that I would never really be able to love anyone. I thought I’d get married for social and financial security, but love was never really a part of the equation. I- I wasn’t raised to believe in love.” Nesta is fighting against the tears that brim in her eyes “you made me believe that love could be possible for me, that I could feel so deeply for someone other than my family” her tears are falling now and Cassian raises a thumb to brush them aside, leaving his hand on her cheek. “Everything that has happened this past year has broken me. I am shattered and broken and just now starting to glue the pieces back together. I don’t know if I will ever be whole again. I don’t know if I will ever be able to really love anyone" she stops, feeling the warmth of his hand on her cheek "but if I do, I know it would be you.”</p><p>         “That’s enough for me” his voice is a gentle whisper washing over her “whatever you can manage, whatever you are comfortable with. I would rather wait 1000 years for you than spend a single minute with anyone else.”</p><p>         Nesta lets herself fold into his strong arms. She feels his wings unfurl as she tips her head up and molds her lips with his own. This kiss is different, so different from the only other one they have shared. Their last kiss was sweaty and bloody and desperate. It was grasping at the straws of a life that they could have known. This one is a promise. The way that his mouth is pliant and soft on hers is a vow to wait, not to push her. The careful press of her hips against his is her promise to heal, and his arms are holding her together, a silent guarantee that if she breaks again he will not make the same mistake as before. He will pick up every piece and hold them until she is ready to put herself back together. He does not think that he can ‘fix’ her, and he doesn’t want to. He wants to watch her grow. He did not <em>fall</em> in love, he ascended to it. She pulled him up and made him better, and now it is his turn to do the same for her.</p><p>         “We don’t have to do this whole birthday thing if you don’t want” Cassian whispers, teeth biting lightly at her ear as he does.</p><p>         “I think we should” Nesta sighs, falling a little more into him “I have to face them all and some point, and I-” she pauses, looking up at him “I know that I am not blameless in all of this. Believe me, I know that I have done things-”</p><p>         “I know” he looks at her sadly “I know that you know. I know how deeply you feel all of this, Nesta. You don’t have to apologize to anyone, least of all me. I was-” he stops, breathing out slowly “I was angry for a long time. I didn’t understand what you were going through, but above everything else, Rhys and I are 500 years older than you. It wasn’t your responsibility to have it all together. We forget what it is like to be so young.”</p><p>         “I am older than Feyre and Elain.”</p><p>         “Elain copes in her own way and Feyre… this is not a bad thing, it is a source of strength for her, but the mating bond and that Rhys had her training her powers so quickly and fully, it’s different. She and Rhys are a part of each other, she feels his power and his age and it grounds her. You never had that. I should have been there for you as he was for her, right from the beginning.”</p><p>         Nesta laughs a little “you did try, to be fair. In the beginning.”</p><p>         “I tried to get you to train for a fight, the exact same tactic I just berated Feyre for using”</p><p>         Nesta’s eyebrow raises a little “Berated?”</p><p>         “It’s true” a new voice enters the fray “if I were more obnoxious about my role as High Lady I might have had him banished for just how soundly he ignored my orders and yelled at me about my bad decision making” Feyre smiles a little, shyly “sorry… I wasn’t trying to eavesdrop or anything, this was just the easiest place to winnow.”</p><p>          "If you'll remember, your ladyship" Cassian says the word mockingly "I banished myself"</p><p>          "Touchè"</p><p>          Nesta looks up at her sister, stepping quickly back from Cassian’s arms “where is your mate?”</p><p>         “Right here” Rhysand appears as though out of thin air “Amren is going to join us on the battlefield. Elain, Mor and Azriel will be along in a few hours, but I have some things to discuss with Helion.”</p><p>         Nesta nods, squaring her shoulders she takes a deep breath in and turns to face her sister, ignoring the High Lord observing her with narrowed eyes. “I am not going to apologize” Nesta finally says, the words stiff. She can hear Rhys growl and takes it as an immense show of personal growth that she does not launch a ball of white hot power into his chest and send him flying off of this rooftop. She feels Cassian raise his hand to the High Lord’s shoulder in a gentle, but clear gesture of brotherly warning.</p><p>         “I never asked you to apologize” Feyre says, giving a glare to Rhys who really needs to learn to stay out of it.</p><p>Nesta nods “you seem very happy and I am glad of that. Truly, I am. I wish nothing more than for you and Elain to be so blissfully happy, but I won’t apologize for not being so. I won’t apologize for managing this new life differently than you. I won’t apologize because you think that how I chose to cope was unacceptable”</p><p>         “I never judged you” Feyre says quietly, looking into her sister’s eyes. It’s true. She pitied her and wanted to help her, and she was so so angry with her at times, but she never judged her.</p><p>         In classic Nesta fashion, she says nothing but provides a hard nod of her head, a simple gesture, an acknowledgement that this conversation is finished and the topic won’t be brought up again. Rhys and Cassian shift a little in the silence that follows, and it is the High Lord who speaks first “you look well, Nesta” his voice is calmer than she expected “I am glad that you have started to heal from the war. It was a hard task for us all.”</p><p>         “Was it?” her eyes are cold, burning steel focused on him.</p><p>         “Yes” he says simply “you may recall that I-”</p><p>         “Died?” it is Helion’s deep, careful voice that surrounds them all now. Nesta scowls at the realization that the insidious gossip of a High Lord never actually left “I’ve been going over and over that last battle in my mind for weeks now, Rhysand. Every minute that I work with Nesta I can’t help but think about the multitude of deaths that wouldn’t have happened if you had focused less on your vendetta against a young girl and more on the battle. Perhaps if you and your entire court had thought to train the Cauldron-born Archeron sisters instead of locking them away in the house of wind while you moped about Feyre being gone-”</p><p>         “I <em>was</em> focused on the war” Rhysand growls “you cannot tell me that you thought 2 girls, as you called them, might be a key to all of this”</p><p>         “I am sick of dwelling on this” Nesta sighs, turning to Helion “thank you, for defending me. As always you show a generosity that I do not deserve, but I can handle my brother-in-law on my own”</p><p>         Helion gracefully bows his head “by all means”</p><p>         “As I said” Nesta turns to the group, head held straight and high enough that a crown would never topple off of it “I will not be apologizing. Nor do I expect an apology from anyone else. What is past is past, and as I have been informed, we need to focus on the future” heads nod, some reluctantly, others emphatically “so, once Rhys is off of his time out, we will not discuss this any further”</p><p>         “His what?” Feyre balks at the same time Rhys says “excuse me?”</p><p>         An imagine of being pushed into the cauldron easily enters Nesta’s mind. She pulls the feeling of fear into herself and once the black mist begins to seep out of her she smirks, channeling the strength within that allowed her to rip this power out of the cauldron and she pushes it outward, focusing on the High Lord of Night in front of her until his entire body is encased in the transparent, glittering black mist, voice silenced.</p><p>         Feyre’s eyes widen “I can’t hear him” she says</p><p>         “yeah, it’s a shield or trap of sorts” Cassian explains “he can’t hear us, and we can’t hear him”</p><p>         “no” she says looking at her sister with a new kind of intrigue “in my head, the bond, I can’t <em>hear</em> him.”</p><p>         Cassian and Helion stiffen a little and that and all three of them turn to look at Nesta, who simply shrugs “you’re welcome.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>         A few hours later Rhysand is firmly out of his bubble and talking with Helion in their super special, mega-important, High Lord’s only meeting. More importantly, however, Elain is here.</p><p>         Unlike everyone else that Nesta has seen since leaving Velaris, there is no awkward moment of lingering fear, no standoffish consideration of what might be said. Elain moves quickly forwards, dropping Azriel and Mor’s hands immediately and runs into Nesta’s arms. The eldest Archeron smiles into her sister’s soft hair, and she feels something heavy in her chest lift.</p><p>         “I’ve missed you so much” Elain smiles in such a sweet, easy way that Nesta will never understand. Elain may be a powerful seer, but in Nesta’s mind her true power is always going to be how easily open and loving she is.</p><p>         “I’ve missed you like a piece of my own heart, Elain” Nesta holds on tight, not letting go of her sister for fear they will be separated again. It may seem childish, but this is the longest Nesta and Elain have gone without seeing each other in their entire lives. Feyre left for months, there was even a time that Nesta resigned herself to never seeing her youngest sister again, but Elain… not seeing Elain is a new type of pain.</p><p>         “I did not realize when Feyre said that she thought it would be good for you to get away that she meant for so long. I tried to visit, but-”</p><p>         “It does not matter, you are here now. That is all that matters.”</p><p>         “Happy birthday, Nesta” Elain smiles sweetly</p><p>         “not until tomorrow technically”</p><p>         “Remember when we were children and we used to all 3 of us stay up until midnight the eve before each of our birthday’s so that we could make a midnight birthday wish”</p><p>         Nesta smiles fondly “I do. I’ll say that my wish when I turned 22 that we be able to return to a life of riches may have been made without considering all of the consequences”</p><p>         “Would you wish for that again? Tonight if I stay with you until midnight, will you wish to return to our human lives?”</p><p>         Nesta casts her gaze to the side, watching Cassian greet Azriel with a warm embrace and a gentle push “no” she admits quietly, voice barely a whisper “I don’t think that is what I will wish for.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. This is Us Trying</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I dedicate this chapter to Taylor Swift's surprise album drop, but mostly "This is me Trying"</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 11:</strong>
</p><p>            Nesta puts her book down, stiffening at the sound of heavy wings beating outside of her window. An imposing figure covers the light of the rising sun by landing on the small balcony outside of her chambers. Her eyes are already staring at the back of his head when Cassian turns around, meeting her gaze easily.</p><p>            “What are you doing here?”</p><p>            He shoots her that crooked smile that she will never admit makes her knees week and steps into the room “I wanted to be the first one to say Happy Birthday”</p><p>            “Sorry to break it to you, but Elain stayed with me until midnight to be the first one”</p><p>            Cassian moves closer, Nesta’s chin lifts to maintain eye contact without standing from where she is folded into the armchair. “Would you like me to have been in your bed at midnight, Nesta?”</p><p>            “With Elain?” she teases easily</p><p>            “She is more than welcome to join us if that’s what you’d like.”</p><p>            “Gross” Nesta scrunches up her nose</p><p>            Cassian grins “alright, too far. Noted. It can just be us then.”</p><p>            “Cute.”</p><p>            “Always am, sweetheart.”</p><p>            Nesta narrows her eyes a little “why are you out flying so early?”</p><p>            “The Rite starts at sunrise. I was just there to see everyone dropped and the battle begin”</p><p>            Nesta looks down, nodding her head “do you think that this will really work?”</p><p>            Cassian kneels down in front of Nesta’s chair, putting a finger gently under her chin and lifting it to look at him once again “I promised you that there wouldn’t be a war, and there won’t be.” He pauses, the gold in his eyes flaring with determination “don’t think about that today though, today is about you.”</p><p>            “I don't know if I’m ready for there to be a whole day about me.”</p><p>            “Well, if you want to stay in here and read all day then that is your choice. Whatever you want to do today you can. You don’t owe it to anyone to be in a big group if you aren’t ready for that”</p><p>            “Thanks” she smiles just a little “I think it is time to talk and be around people again, but I do appreciate you not forcing the subject.”</p><p>      </p><hr/><p>    “I realize that for this type of event an evening meal might be more appropriate or traditional, and that will be coming later this evening as well” Helion smiles broadly, white teeth glinting in the morning sun “but I wanted to throw the greatest breaking of a fast in memory for a powerful woman who is so like the sun to me that I can’t imagine a better time of celebration” Nesta blushes a little and certain members of the Night Court scoff in a way that sets Helion’s teeth together “when Nesta Archeron came to me, I knew that I was meeting a powerful woman who must be trained, but I never considered the goddess that might emerge” he lifts his glass, sparkling wine mixed with fresh fruit juice sloshing against the edges “I raise this toast to Nesta, a constant, beautiful, magical force to be reckoned with.”</p><p>            Nesta’s blush deepens from the attention. Cassian, Feyre, Elain, and Azriel heartily raise their glasses and smile easily. Rhysand and Mor are reserved, tilting their cups a fraction and mumbling incoherent words. Everyone begins to dig into the platters of fried potatoes, batter cakes, elaborate pastries, fruits, meats, and cheeses. Conversation is easy, the sisters and brothers that have been separated taking this time to catch up while Mor and Helion fall into a flirtatious banter.</p><p>            “So what is the plan for this battle?” Nesta asks once she has drained her glass of bubbling wine.</p><p>            “We can talk about that tomorrow, Nesta” Feyre smiles “today is all about you!”</p><p>            “I’d rather talk about it now and know what to expect”</p><p>            “Absolutely not” Feyre shakes her head with a light laugh “no business talk today!”</p><p>            “You aren't doing anything for or because of me if you ignore what I am saying that I want, Feyre” Nesta snaps, growling as she pulls the white mist back into herself.</p><p>            Feyre’s eyes widen and Rhysand reaches to cover her hand in his, their telepathic conversation evident “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to anger you” Feyre sighs “it seems that everything I do makes you mad”</p><p>            Nesta scoffs “well everything that I do makes you embarrassed or think that I am a child who needs you to dictate what happens in my life, so maybe we are even.”</p><p>            “Fine. I made a bad call, but I was trying to help you, Nesta! You have to see that”</p><p>            “I’m not doing this in front of your entire little collection of lapdogs who think that you can do no wrong, Feyre. If you want to have this conversation for real then we can do that, but I won’t sit here while mr. night sky eyes glares at me like he would break into my mind if he could”</p><p>            “Oh I could if I really wanted to” Rhys scoffs.</p><p>            “No” Helion's voice is hard “you couldn’t. I can’t even get in unless she lets me, and I am a lot older than you. You all have no idea what she is capable of”</p><p>            Rhysand’s entire body tenses and Feyre holds up a hand, clearly telling him something in her mind “I would like to speak with my sisters in private, do you have somewhere we could go, Helion?”</p><p>            He nods and stands from the table, gesturing for the ladies to follow him.</p><hr/><p>           When the door is closed Nesta speaks first “As I said before, I am not looking for an apology, Feyre. I will not give one and I am not seeking one from anyone else.” Nesta sits down on a white plush chair, running her finger lazily down the gold trim and lifting her head high as though there is a crown rested on it “I honestly see no purpose in creating a tally of everything that I have done or you have and individually deciding who was wrong or right in every argument.”</p><p>           Elain smiles and Feyre just nods, sitting across from her sister on a settee “all that I have wanted since the war ended is for you to be my sister, Nesta. We have an entire immortal life in front of us and the 3 of us are the only ones who understand everything that we have all been through.”</p><p>          “You only wanted me to be your sister on your terms though, Feyre. That isn’t an accusation, just a fact. I won’t live like that. We are different and I am not going to fall into Cassian's arms and be magically fixed like you did with Rhys-”</p><p>          “I was not fixed because of Rhys” Feyre scoffs, squaring her shoulders “I <em>fought</em> to become the person that I am now. Rhys encouraged me and loved me, but I was the one who did all of that work”</p><p>          “Work that you never gave me the opportunity to do for myself” Nesta throws back “you had a full year longer than Elain and I to manage all of this. You became Fae and had a minute to learn what that meant, we were thrown immediately into a war!”</p><p>           “This is exactly what you said you didn’t want to do” Elain breaks in “there is no point in going over this and over it! There is no use in counting sins and dolling out penitence.”</p><p>            Nesta smiles sweetly at her favourite sister “you're right, Elain. What I want to say more than anything is that I am not either of you. I am a different person and I deal with things differently. I won’t bow to anyone’s expectations or preferences for my life.”</p><p>           “You certainly were never someone who bowed to expectations” Feyre’s voice is not judging or bitter, she is merely stating a fact just as Nesta had done.</p><p>           “I do love you both” Nesta admits quietly, feeling almost embarrassed by her own words “and I hope that we can see more of each other and work on our relationships, but I can’t return to the Night Court once all of this is over.”</p><p>           “I know” Feyre nods.</p><p>           “You do?”</p><p>           “Cassian spoke to me, he helped me to see your perspective and how it will never be a place that you can return to.”</p><p>            Right, Cassian did say that he had spoken to Feyre and Rhys about this, but she didn't imagine that they actually heard him. Nesta takes a hard breath in, focusing on Elain’s smiling face and telling herself that there is no use in berating Feyre for needing Cassian to inform her about her own sister. That is the past, and it won’t help them move forward.</p><p>           “We are all still healing in our own ways” Elain reaches for Nesta’s hand “it is going to take some time”</p><p>           “Good thing we have an abundance of that” Feyre laughs a little</p><p>           “No apologies” Nesta says, reaching her free hand for Feyre’s who in turn grabs Elain’s other hand. The three sisters smile and nod. There is nothing more to be said, they are sisters. They will spend the rest of eternity bickering and fighting, but they will also get over it all, they will get through it. That is what being sisters means. Forgiveness without an apology.</p><p>            “Can we celebrate your birthday now?” Elain smiles, squeezing both of their hands.</p><p>            “There's one more person that I need to talk to first” Elain and Feyre share a knowing look “Rhysand” their eyes widen in surprise. That is clearly not the name that they were expecting. “You and he are the same person Feyre, none of this is going to matter if he and I can't find a way to move forward too.”</p><p>             Feyre nods, smiling a little at the hope of reconciliation “I will get him.”</p><p>             “and Feyre, please no psychic spying.”</p><p>             Her sister laughs “I promise”</p><hr/><p>            Rhysand’s wings barely fit through the door of the room that Nesta is in, she does not miss the fact that they are out and spread, not even tucked in a little bit. He is preparing for a fight.</p><p>            “You can put those things away” she scoffs, gesturing to the giant wings trailing behind him “I’m not going to attack you.”</p><p>            “Are you going to lock me in a mist box?” he deadpans.</p><p>            “Only if you annoy me”</p><p>            “Always a delight, Nesta.”</p><p>            “I am not interested in being your friend or sister-in-law or whatever, Rhysand. Neither of us are delusional enough to think that we are going to walk out of this room best friends, but I think we can both agree that we are going to have to tolerate each other for the next handful of centuries.”</p><p>            “It would appear that way” he stares forward, violet eyes betraying nothing.</p><p>            “I already told Feyre that I won’t be apologizing for anything, nor do I expect an apology for anything. I am not interested in rehashing the entirety of our pasts. I think that we should simply acknowledge that we both care about the same people and we are adults who can be civil.”</p><p>            Rhys scoffs, rolling his eyes “of course you would want to forget the past and move forward. I can’t think of a single thing that I would have to apologize to you for Nesta, meanwhile you have 25 years of venomous behaviour and selfish inaction to answer for.”</p><p>           “You want to talk about selfish inaction, Rhysand?” she spits his name like a curse word “fine when I was a teenager I didn’t whittle myself a spear with my bare hands and run into the woods like my sister. Hate me for that for the rest of eternity if you want, but what is your excuse for abandoning 2 newly turned girls, ignoring our powers and letting us go slowly insane, not caring even a little bit until you realized that our powers might be able to help <em>you</em>”</p><p>            “My mate had been taken away from me” he growls.</p><p>            “Yeah and my mother was taken away from me, and then everything else in my life. Do not you dare condescend to me Rhysand, if you want to talk to me like I am a child and you are the mature, world-wearied, wise High Lord then you had better start acting your damn age, because I’m not doing this with you for the rest of eternity.”</p><p>            “You are the one who asked to see me”</p><p>            “I asked to see you because I thought that we could discuss our mutual interests and agree to move forward in civility.”</p><p>            “When have you ever been civil?”</p><p>            “You can go now" Nesta practically snarls. When Rhysand turns to leave she continues speaking on a quieter voice "but you are going to regret throwing this olive branch in my face"</p><p>            "I doubt that very much."</p><p>             Nesta smirks "remember that you said that the next time you watch how sad Feyre is because I refuse to come to Velaris for Christmas, or when I tell Cassian that I’m not comfortable having you visit the Illyrian mountains while I am there because of your malignant and petulant need to hold unnecessary grudges.”</p><p>            “Cassian is my brother” Rhys scowls</p><p>            “and Feyre is my sister. Your point?”</p><p>            “he would never-”</p><p>            “Wouldn't he?” Nesta smirks a little “I’m not threatening you, Rhysand. I tried to be rational, but you are not being reasonable, so I am merely letting you know how I feel and what I would share with the people close to me. Let me ask you this, if Feyre told you that being in Azriel or Cassian's presence made her feel physically uncomfortable, sad, depressed, not herself, disgusted…what would you do?”</p><p>            “Feyre would never do that.”</p><p>            “Right, well I am not Feyre. I would do that.”</p><p>            Rhys growls, every part of him is tense. He wants to tell her that whatever is happening between her and his brother is not like he and Feyre. He wants to tell her how wrong she is, but he can’t. No one knows exactly what is happening between her and Cassian, but his brother has already stood up to him once for this female and is moving to the fucking mountains for her so maybe this isn’t a fight that the High Lord will win. He takes a deep breath in and sighs outwardly.</p><p>            “I will never agree that you do not owe Feyre an apology for the years that you did nothing”</p><p>            “Then it is a good thing that you are not involved in that in any way nor does it affect you beyond your own egotistical overprotection of my sister.”</p><p>            “You’re right” he nods, still scowling “what Feyre wants more than anything is for all of us to be at peace with each other, so for her… I will try.”</p><p>            “How very big of you.”</p><p>            “I mean it Nesta, you are not my favorite person and I have never hidden that, but I will try. For your sister, and my brother”</p><p>             Nesta nods once sharply "now you really can go."</p><hr/><p>            Cassian can see a thin, almost unnoticeable layer of grey surrounding Nesta when he enters her room, wanting to check on her after seeing Rhys’ annoyed expression and clipped response when Feyre asked how it went.</p><p>            “Why are you sad?” he asks, moving to sit next to her on the chair. It's big enough for both of them if he moves her legs on top of him a little bit, and she doesn't fight the physical contact.</p><p>            Nesta looks up, pulling the mist back into herself quickly when she hears what he said "I didn't realize that it was-"</p><p>            “That’s not what I asked” Cassian’s voice is gentle.</p><p>            ”Rhysand is your brother, it isn’t fair for me to speak ill of him to you.”</p><p>            Cassian laughs “I speak ill of Rhysand every damn day. What’d the prick do now?”</p><p>            “I just don’t understand why Feyre and I can decide that we are moving forward as sisters, but he gets to keep making me feel like that selfish girl who didn’t help her family, or that weak girl who couldn’t control her powers, or… I just hate how he looks at me.”</p><p>            Cassian sighs “Rhys can be difficult. He doesn’t mean half of the things that he says. I think… to be honest, I think that he sees a lot of his own trauma in you and it isn’t fair, but he is taking it out on you. He feels like if he had been able to do something under the mountain he would have, so he can’t-”</p><p>            “Understand how I could watch the people I love suffer and do nothing about it?” Nesta shakes her head “ironic that he hates me so much because of how I dealt with my trauma, but hating me is how he deals with his own.”</p><p>            ”I know that we should be better because of how old we are, but sometimes I think that it’s just more time to become damaged in new ways”</p><p>            Nesta looks up at Cassian, raising her hand to his cheek without even realizing that she is doing it “when do we get to stop fighting and start healing?”</p><p>            Cassian covers her hand with his own, not letting her go “soon. As soon as this is over, I promise. I know that we said that after the last war, but this time it isn’t about the Night Court. It’s about you. Nesta, I-” Cassian pauses, breathing deeply “you are welcome to stay here as long as you want and if you want to do this alone then I will be waiting for you. I will wait until you are ready, but if… I want you to move to the mountains with me, for real.” Her eyes widen and he smiles softly "not until you are ready of course, but I know a place that is not any of the camps, it would just be us. Far enough away from Velaris that we would be alone, but close enough that you could see Elain or Feyre whenever you-”</p><p>            “Why?” she asks quietly, eyes cast downward.</p><p>            “Because of you, Nesta. You know that, you have to know that. I’m trying so hard to deserve you.”</p><p>            “I forgive you” she says “everything that happened in the war and with.. I just, I forgive you. I can see how hard you have been trying and I… I hope that you can forgive me too” it isn’t quite an apology, but it’s the closest Nesta gets.</p><p>            “I forgave you a long time ago, Nesta. I forgave you the second I realized what all of this was like for you. I’m just sorry that I was ever angry. I’m sorry that we wasted so much time.”</p><p>            Nesta smiles a little “anger is alright Cassian, I can be difficult to deal with”</p><p>            “I don't think that”</p><p>            “You’re a liar” she smirks a little and he laughs</p><p>            “Yeah, maybe I am. It’s worth it though.”</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Not A Birthday Gift</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I lost this and 2 more chapters twice in a computer meltdown so I'm sorry for any mistakes, after I wrote this for the third time I really had no energy to edit, hopefully it is still enjoyable to read though!!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 12</strong>
</p><p>“I’ve known you for a long time, Helion Spell cleaver, and I have never seen you take such interest in a woman you weren’t trying to sleep with” Mor’s light brown eyes narrow in suspicion, confused by what exactly it is about Nesta Archeron that inspires this kind of devotion. Clearly there is something with this… girl that she is not seeing. Then again, with males, it could also just be the pretty face and ample chest.</p><p>            “I’m always trying to sleep with a beautiful woman that resides in my home” Helion shrugs, moving closer to Morrigan “but you are correct, that is not what intrigues me about Nesta”</p><p>            “don’t let Cassian hear you describe your plans” she grimaces, knocking back another mouthful of wine as she holds out her glass for the half-there lesser fae to fill.</p><p>            “He is more than welcome to join us”</p><p>            “I’m trying to be serious” she nearly drains the glass in a single sip and steadies her gaze “what is it about her?”</p><p>            “She’s strong”</p><p>            “All fae are strong, try again” Mor scoffs</p><p>            “No, not like that. Not physically. She isn’t a warrior, never has been, probably never will be. To go through everything that she did at such a young age and then also be ready to conquer these powers less than a year after she faced certain death… it is a strength of character that I envy. Something that is entirely human in its burning intensity, it is the same strength that we all saw in Feyre Cursebreaker when she was newly turned. When I was 25 I could barely toast a slice of bread on my own. It is a strength that I want to cultivate, train. Imagine what these Archeron’s could be capable of in 100 years if this is what they can do after a quarter century or less”</p><p>            “She didn’t exactly handle her plight gracefully” Mor points out.</p><p>            “She also handled it completely powerless” Helion points out “Feyre was betrothed to Tamlin, or an emissary for Rhys the entire time she was learning her powers, she was a Lady and then a High Lady. She commanded respect from the moment she was turned. Even Elain, with her visions. She had a sense of control, of knowing. Nesta had none of that. She didn’t even know what this power was, she thought it was something dark and wrong and evil, but she still managed to get up every day and that takes more strength than people realize.”</p><p>            “Fine” Mor bites back “so she’s a survivor. We all have shit to deal with.”</p><p>            “Does your trauma make hers any less legitimate?”</p><p>            “I don’t know what you are talking about.”</p><p>            “Yes you do. You went through horror and remained light and friendly. You didn’t let it break you or define you. You resent that she lets her trauma show, wears it on her sleeve and asks for space to handle it instead of hiding it away in parts of her that no one is allowed to see.”</p><p>            Mor lets her glass be refilled again “I resent that she won’t let anyone help her, that she is so damn stubborn”</p><p>            “She won’t let anyone help her? Or she won’t let one of you help her?”</p><p>            “Cassian-”</p><p>            “This isn’t about the commander. If your anger is towards her treatment of him then frankly my dear, that is none of your business”</p><p>            “He is one of my best friends”</p><p>            “and he is his own person. If he is happy to be around her despite how you feel she treats him, that is his decision, not yours.”</p><p>            Mor throws back a mouthful of wine, needing to be more numb to handle this conversation “Cassian isn’t choosing anything when it comes to Nesta” the name is like poison on her tongue. Helion raises an eyebrow and Mor just lets out a snort “please, don’t play dumb with me, Helion. We all know what is going on here. Sure, the bond is hard to sense before it snaps, but you’d have to be fucking blind not to see it with those 2” she rolls her eyes “Cassian, Lord of Bloodshed, commander of the Night Court armies, the most powerful warrior in centuries. Who could equal that?” she pauses, letting the silence hang for a second before she snorts and continues “Someone who went to war with the Cauldron itself, maybe? Who tore and shredded and fought her way into the kind of pure power that creates and takes away life itself. Cassian doesn’t only walk beside death, he dances with it, teases it, defies it.” She looks down, sighing “but that is only a part of him. He isn’t really that person. The darkest most powerful parts of him are drawn into her. They are both conquerors of death in their own right, and the bond is all about power, about finding the strongest fae to make stronger children. It’s why Rhys is so powerful, and their child... their child would tear worlds apart and build them up from the ground again if it wanted to. I’ve seen the mating bond go bad before, and I don’t want that for him. She isn’t right for him and I won’t let some fucked up cosmic power stick him with a cold snake who will never love him, because he loves. He loves so deeply and fully and brightly. It will kill him to constantly be yearning for a woman who can never return that.”</p><p>            Helion lets out a breath, shaking his head “you all know a very different version of Nesta Archeron than I do” he stands, robes flowing out behind him “I do not see someone harsh or difficult. I see a beautiful young girl who has had to face far too much at far too young of an age. I see a girl who loves and cares and feels so much that it tears her apart. I see someone who sneaks out of this palace to check on lesser fae to ensure their healing is going well. I see someone who thinks that she is not good enough for this person that fate keeps throwing at her. I see a lost girl who cares so much that the cauldron cursed her to have powers tied to her emotions when she stole from it, because it knew. The cauldron knew how deeply she feels, how much everything burns inside of her.” Helion looks down at Mor “so if you see something different, something dark and bitter and evil… perhaps that has more to do with all of you than it does with her” Helion sweeps towards the door, pausing for just a second “do you and Rhys and your whole merry little gang ever think that maybe the time has come for you all to grow up?”</p><p>            Mor’s mouth opens and closes like a fish, but Helion does not stay long enough for her to form an answer.</p><hr/><p>            The teacup in Elain’s hand clatters to the floor and shatters loudly on the marble floor. Azriel is out of his chair in a second, kneeling beside her, gripping her hand gently. Elain breathes in and out carefully with tightly shut eyes. Nesta watches the situation carefully.</p><p>            “What did you see?” she asks once her sister’s eyes open again.</p><p>            “Oh no I broke the teacup. I should get a-”</p><p>            “Not to worry. Helion has far too many tea cups anyway” Alydhia materializes as if out of nowhere with a brush and dustpan in hand “and this pattern has never been my favorite anyway”</p><p>            “Thank you” Elain smiles.</p><p>            “What did you see?” Nesta asks again and Elain smirks a little indulgently.</p><p>            “Azriel would you mind giving us a few moments alone?”</p><p>            The shadowsinger nods “I should go pull Cass out of the training ring anyway so that he has time to shower and doesn’t show up to dinner looking like a sweaty mess. Again.” He slips gracefully out the door.</p><p>            “Everyone seems to be quite on edge with another battle coming up” Elain notes simply</p><p>            “Stop trying to change the subject, Elain. What did you see?”</p><p>            Elain sighs “Blue clouds on the ground. Breath of the dying. Border of melting ice. Mountain and valley. Old world come to new.”</p><p>            “What does that mean?”</p><p>            “You will find out soon enough” Elain looks down “very soon indeed”</p><p>            Nesta sighs in frustration “well at least that vision seemed to affect you a lot less than ones I have seen in the past”</p><p>            Elain nods “I have been working with a seer, Lucien knew one from the Autumn court who was looking for a new start.”</p><p>            Nesta narrows her eyes “Lucien did? Interesting, it seems that Azriel was the one helping you through it”</p><p>            “He is around more, and he calms me. Physical touch helps to ground me in my body while the images come, it’s important to remember that my body is here so that I can watch the visions instead of being a part of them”</p><p>            Nesta nods “so do you see the red headed male often as well?”</p><p>            “Lucien” Elain corrects her “and I see him sometimes. Not often, we are both managing our own lives, but I-” she looks up at her sister “I am coming to enjoy his company. It is easy to be with him.”</p><p>            “And Azriel?”</p><p>            “Ask what you want to ask, Nesta”</p><p>            “I just want to know about the people in your life, Elain. I want to know how… close you may be becoming with these people”</p><p>            “They are my friends” Elain reaches for her sister’s hand, holding it comfortingly “I understand that it is difficult to be apart, but know that I will tell you if anything important happens. Yes, I am seeing Lucien, and yes, Azriel has been a helpful and calming presence, but they are no more than that at this time. I am still figuring out what this new life might mean”</p><p>            Nesta nods “I understand completely.” She pauses “when will you return to Velaris?”</p><p>            “I imagine I will join everyone returning after the battle.”</p><p>            Nesta cocks her head to the side “are you intending to join us in the Illyrian camp?”</p><p>            “I am”</p><p>            “Are you sure that is such a good idea Elain-”</p><p>            “I have been in a war, Nesta. I can handle this”</p><p>            “it could be dangerous”</p><p>            “then you could all use a seer in your corner” Nesta is about to speak when Elain cuts her off “I have not only been honing my visions, sister. I have been training with Azriel. I can hold my own”</p><p>            “When did you become so grown up, little sister?”</p><p>            “You know when.”</p><p>            Nesta nods “perhaps life will go back to normal once all of this is over”</p><p>            Elain gives a wry sort of knowing smile “I would not count on it.”</p><hr/><p>            “I thought that Azriel pulled you away from this training arena hours ago?” Nesta had just come up here for a breath of fresh air and a moment of silence.</p><p>"He tried, I wasn't done hitting things." Cassian takes a deep breath in, looking over the edge of the rooftop training ground and trying to decide if he has the strength to turn and look Nesta in the eye right now or not. The more he trains the more he thinks, the more he worries that this entire plan is a disaster. He promised her that there would not be another war, but what right had he to promise such a thing?</p><p>            Nesta watches the muscles in Cassian’s back tense, his bare torso is tightly wound and there are droplets of sweat falling from those few stubborn stray hairs that never stay in the haphazard bun he favours. His wings are tucked in tightly and the pants of his fighting leathers are hanging so dangerously low on his hips that she bites her lip even before he turns to face her.</p><p>            Cassian should not have turned to face her. He doesn’t have the strength to see her like this, he wants to fall to his knees and weep. He wants to tear his heart out of his chest and lay it in front of her pure gold sandals if only to make her see how completely devoted he is to the goddess in front of him. She is glowing… literally. Every inch of her skin that is visible to him is dusted in a shimmering powder that looks like someone mashed diamonds and sunlight together and then a goddess emerged from the mixture. Her torso is wrapped in light silk that is so pure gold it is almost white, the neck dips lower than Nesta normally would wear, but she is covered up to her collarbones in a sheer gossamer fabric that falls behind her in long flowing sleeves. The silk is tight around her waist and held with a gold and diamond-encrusted belt. The fabric clings to her upper thighs until a slit begins just above her right knee and the fabric gets lighter and lighter until it too becomes light, flowing gossamer that meets her trailing sleeves in a graceful train.</p><p>            Her hair is braided halfway back with diamond pins to show that her time in the day court has rounded out some of the sharp angles that her face carried when she had gotten too thin. Every part of her is soft and lush and glowing in the most intoxicating way.</p><p>            “you look…” he trails off, eyes still wandering her body, words seeming not to suffice in this moment.</p><p>            Nesta smiles, “thank you” her voice is quiet as he stares at her. Nesta has always loved his eyes, she won’t lie to herself about that. The dark green flecks melt and spark within the gold and burn with everything that he is feeling. She loves that she can practically read his thoughts inside of them. Nesta takes a breath out and steps closer to him, feeling her walls start to soften just a little as she realizes that she has been waiting for someone to look at her like this for her entire life.</p><p>            It isn’t that she needed someone to look at her like this, she never has. Nesta Archeron does not need anything or anyone, but… is it so wrong to <em>want</em> someone to look at her like this?</p><p>            “You’re right.” He says finally, breaking them both out of their reverie “I should have been in the shower a few hours ago. I’d hate to be late for dinner” he winks.</p><p>            Nesta rolls her eyes “yeah, the horror”</p><p>            “What’s wrong?”</p><p>            “Nothing” Nesta sighs “I’ll see you at dinner” she turns to leave, but Cassian wraps a strong, bare arm around her waist and pulls her back, making her face him.</p><p>            “What’s wrong?” those damn eyes.</p><p>            “I don’t want to celebrate my birthday” Nesta is very careful with her words, and she seldom says things that she does not mean. She may say things that she comes to regret at a later date, but in the moment she knows exactly what she is going to say no matter what. Her words are like ammunition that she carefully loads inside of her mind and then fires out of her mouth. Nesta always hits her target, which is why she is so taken off guard by the words that slipped out without her wanting them to.</p><p>            “Why not?”</p><p>            Nesta sighs “when I was human celebrating a birthday was actually an accomplishment. It meant that you survived another year, if you got older it was impressive. It meant that you moved forward in life, you got closer to some milestone, but now… now a birthday is just sort of a reminder that I’m never going to get old, I’m never going to experience things that I thought I would and that’s ok, I’m getting used to this life, this body. I’m getting closer to accepting it, but… the whole birthday thing is just really a reminder that I’m not human anymore.”</p><p>            Cassian nods. Of course, how could he be so obtuse. Cassian always knew that he would age to his physical peak and then stop forever. That is how things work in Prythian. Of course he knew that humans aged, he’s seen the elderly, seen how their bodies start to weaken. He can’t imagine being upset to be missing out on becoming weak and frail, but if that was what he had expected…maybe it would be different.</p><p>            “So we won’t celebrate your birthday, then”</p><p>            “I’m pretty sure the table is already being set for dinner”</p><p>            “So?” Nesta bites her lip, looking back at the door as Cassian wraps the arm not already on her waist under her knees and launches toward the sky “I have a better idea about what we can do tonight anyway”</p><p>            “Where are we going?” Nesta asks as she wraps her arms around his neck for balance.</p><p>            “I have a gift for you, but don't worry. It isn’t technically a birthday gift since I tried to give it to you months ago”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. This is Different</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Warning: This story is rated mature, and in this chapter we really see that (IE- yes there is sex, if that's not your thing... it's pretty obvious when it starts to happen)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you everyone who was so kind in the last chapter about my writing getting lost. It was very encouraging. We are starting to narrow in on the conclusion of this story and I hope that everyone is happy with where we are so far and I can't wait to show you all where we have yet to go...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 13:   </strong>
</p><p>       “So, this isn’t technically what I tried to give you on solstice, the box was a representation of the bigger thing” Cassian admits after a half hour of flying “and I threw that into the Sidra after you-”</p><p>       “told you to go to hell?”</p><p>       “You had your reasons” he shrugs, lifting Nesta up and down in his arms as he does. “I was not exactly kind to you that night either.”</p><p>       Nesta casts her eyes down, the same emptiness that he saw fill them that night in the ice and snow returning now.</p><p>
  <em>       Your sisters love you. I can’t for the life of me imagine why, but they do.</em>
</p><p>       “I didn’t mean it” Cassian says quietly “not even as I said it. I was just-”</p><p>       “we all have our reasons for everything we say.” Nesta’s voice is quiet “I have made no qualms about telling you everything that I think you’ve done wrong, but believe me that I’m not delusional about my own faults.”</p><p>       Cassian breathes out “I know that Nesta. After that night I realized that I could never say something worse to you than what you already say to yourself.”</p><p>       “I doubt that” Nesta scoffs.</p><p>       “it’s true”</p><p>       “how do you know?”</p><p>       Cassian looks down at her again “because I could never think the kinds of things about you that you think about yourself.” Before the words even leave his mouth, Cassian knows that Nesta is not going to respond. She turns her head to look at the Illyrian landscape “do you see that mountain” he gracefully changes the subject, pointing with his chin to the tallest mountain “that’s Ramiel, if everything goes according to plan Kallon and his allies should be starting the summit by dusk” he swoops to the right, careful to avoid the mountain and any area where the Rite may be occurring beneath them.</p><p>       Nesta continues to stare at the mountain until Cassian drops the shield around them and she can feel the cold air bite into her exposed skin for just a second, and then… warmth. It isn’t a shield, she can still feel and hear everything outside of herself and Cassian. This is different, it’s like a perfect spring day in the middle of the Illyrian winter. Cassian lands them deep into a valley that Nesta never would have seen from the air. His hands are still on her waist as she looks at the perfectly lush trees and blooming flowers around them. They are standing right in front of a sparkling lake, water splashing up against the perfectly green grass.</p><p>       “How is this possible? What… what is this place?”</p><p>       “It’s called ćaelar” his tongue dances reverently around the syllables “it’s a sacred space for the Illyrians, the exact opposite of Ramiel’s cold, tough, power. This valley is calm and steady, set in the exact center of Illyria- it is our heart, a reminder to be as strong within as we are on the outside.”</p><p>       “Is that why it’s so warm here?”</p><p>       “No” he admits “that is why it is able to grow and sustain life. The warmth is a spell like at the house of wind, I had Rhysand set it up when I got this idea.”</p><p>        “Right, your idea. What is this gift?”</p><p>        “turn around” Cassian steps back, releasing her waist and Nesta does a slow spin to see a manor behind her. It’s beautiful, not a palace like the High Lords in Prythian have, but large and familiar.</p><p>        “home” she whispers, running forward to touch the intricately carved wooden bannisters and make sure this is all real. This is it, her home. Not that little cabin that her family lived in for years, not the mansion that Tamlin bought them, but her home. The house that she grew up in, the house that her mother lived in.</p><p>         “How did you-”</p><p>         “Feyre and Elain helped a lot” he admits, coming to sit on the steps “the box on solstice was a key. Back then I just had the idea, the place, and a really rough foundation. I thought that it would be good for you to get out of Velaris, that you could tell me what you wanted the house to be and yell at me the whole time I built it” Nesta laughs a little “but then after that night I was so angry that I left it for a while.” He pauses “It was on your birthday last year when Feyre and Elain were trying to force you to come to the river palace that I realized what you really wanted- a home.”</p><p>          “Thank you, I-” she trails off “the other day, when you asked me to move to the mountains with you, is this-”</p><p>           Cassian nods simply “This is actually what originally gave me the idea to stay in Illyria permanently once all of this is behind us. I thought that if you chose to stay at the Day Court then I could just move in, but if you did… if you did want to stay here, in Illyria, with me I mean, then I could easily build myself something across the lake. I thought that might be far enough to give you space, but still close enough that if-”</p><p>           Nesta holds up a hand to cut off his rambling “Cassian you aren’t building another house. This one is plenty big enough for two people.”</p><p>           His eyes go wide “are you sure?”</p><p>           “completely” Nesta leans in closer, bringing a hand up to his cheek she smiles before finally closing that tiny, momentous space between them that has been building for months. She leans into him and molds her lips to his.</p><p>            It is an entirely new type of home.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>            “Leave it to Nesta Archeron to abandon her own fucking birthday party and leave everyone just starving and waiting” Mor scoffs, rolling her eyes.</p><p>            “Really? You’re starving?” Feyre asks with a raised eyebrow</p><p>            Mor glares and knocks back some of the wine in front of her “well no, but that does not change the fact that this is incredibly rude”</p><p>            Elain smiles knowingly “we can go ahead and have dinner. They won’t be returning any time soon.”</p><p>            “They?” Azriel raises an eyebrow and then smirks a little at Elain’s careful nod “good for Cass”</p><p>            “Oh yes, great for Cassian. Finally he has found someone to abandon us for” Mor glowers.</p><p>            “You didn’t have such objections when I met Feyre” Rhys defends his brother easily, realizing with annoyance that if it means Cassian is happy, he will even defend Nesta as well.</p><p>            “Well Feyre is nice and pleasant and not stealing you away from celebrations. You know that this is only the beginning right?” she turns to Azriel now “it’s not going to be like with Rhys, we won’t gain a sister. We are going to lose a friend!”</p><p>            “No, we aren’t” Rhys breaks in, not letting Azriel respond “not unless we keep behaving like this”</p><p>            “What do you mean?” Mor growls.</p><p>            “It isn’t just you, Morrigan. I am more guilty than any of us. It is not a secret that Nesta Archeron is not my favorite person, but if we want Cassian in our lives then we all have to move forward and be <em>civil</em>, because he will choose her over us if it comes down to it. I see that now” Rhysand is not happy to be speaking the words that he is, but as he looks to Feyre he understands the truth of them better than he wants to.</p><p>            “So, what? All of a sudden I’m supposed to be her best friend?”</p><p>            “Maybe you could start by not insulting the girl on her birthday” Helion sighs lightly, frustrated at this entire conversation</p><p>            “aren’t you upset that she left? You are the one who went to the trouble of preparing all of this” she gestures to the food and wine laid out on the table</p><p>            “not at all” he shrugs “Nesta has never been a prisoner here. I do not control her, she does as she will, as we all do. One of the joys of immortality is that there will be many more birthdays”</p><p>            Mor huffs but says nothing more.</p><p>            Dinner goes well enough and before long Helion, Rhys, Feyre, and Mor are the odd couples still at the table</p><p>            “I think that is all I can manage for one night” Feyre smiles, her glittering dusk-coloured gown flowing behind her as she stands up “I am going to bed, just in case anyone might want to join me” she smiles with a flirtatiously raised eyebrow.</p><p>            Rhys grins back at her, clearly speaking different words inside of her head “I think I will have another drink” his gaze falls on Morrigan.</p><p>            “Was that an open invitation?” Helion winks at the High Lady.</p><p>            “Tempting, but unfortunately I have a very jealous husband” Feyre laughs a little, flitting easily out of the room.</p><p>            Helion sighs “why do I feel as though I have unwittingly invited myself into a very uncomfortable situation”</p><p>            Rhysand sighs as well “we have to figure this out before we walk into a battle”</p><p>            “I went into the last battle not liking that girl, I don’t see how this is any different”</p><p>            “because Cassian isn’t coming back with us this time.”</p><p>            “Well he isn’t staying here with her either”</p><p>            “who says that Nesta is staying here?” Helion smirks</p><p>            “Isn’t she?” Mor widens her eyes.</p><p>            “Not if I am to believe the whisperings of that seer sister of hers to my staff”</p><p>            Mor curses "I knew she was going to dig her claws into him and steal him away"</p><p>            "I doubt Cass is any type of unwilling victim" Rhys scoffs</p><p>            "Males, all the same the lot of you" she pauses, eyes filling with something that neither male recognizes. She sighs and nods her head with a newfound resolve "alright, I shall be the bigger person. Nesta Archeron, meet your new best friend" Mor gives a smile that is mostly teeth as she stands up and sweeps dramatically out of the room.</p><p>            "That should go well" Rhys scoffs, knocking back the last big of his whiskey with a conciliatory nod from Helion "now if you'll excuse me, I have a rather insatiable mate putting some very intriguing images in my mind." he smirks.</p><p>            Once Rhysand is out of sight the high lord of day fills his goblet once more "looks like it is just you and I again, wall. You're better company than the whole lot of these glorified Night Court teenagers, you know that?"</p><p>           </p><hr/><p> </p><p>            “This was my bedroom for 13 years” Nesta looks wistfully at the mahogany and ivory decorated room, the pops of gold on the silk sheets make her smile as she runs her hand over them.</p><p>            “Did I get it right?” he asks with a grin, flopping himself onto the bed, wings spreading under him as he reaches into the bedside table and pulls out a tiny stuffed bear with a ruby red ribbon tied around its neck.</p><p>            Nesta’s eyes go wide in joy and she practically topples over Cassian as she reaches for the bear, which he playfully pulls out of her reach.</p><p>            “Oh, is this something you want?”</p><p>            Nesta glares at Cassian as she kneels on the bed, her body practically on top of his, hand balancing herself on his still bare chest and then she looks up at the bear and laughs.</p><p>            Nesta’s laugh is light and free like Cassian isn’t sure he has ever heard it. She smiles, falling back against the soft mattress, turning her head to face Cassian.</p><p>            “you are so beautiful” he murmurs, because he can’t help it. Cassian lowers his arm and passes Nesta the bear, which she pulls tight to her chest as he turns himself onto his side so that he can look at her better.</p><p>            “I loved this bear when I was younger. I used to talk to him” she admits “sometimes it felt like he was the only one who wasn’t judging me, who didn’t expect something from me.”</p><p>            “What did people expected of you?”</p><p>            “I’ve always been beautiful” Nesta says with a sigh “no point in being modest about it. Elain turned out the most beautiful of us all I think, and Feyre really grew into herself, but I was the oldest and I was always beautiful and my mother made it very clear that my only job was to behave properly, present myself properly, and find the right husband to continue our lifestyle.”</p><p>            “you are so much more than beautiful, Nesta” Cassian says, instantly regretting his earlier words “it’s easy to notice how you look, but you are so strong and brilliant and anyone who only looks at the surface of you is missing out on so much.” He pauses, looking down at the bear “I have seen parts of you that others haven’t.”</p><p>            Nesta scoffs “yeah, and you hated every one of them”</p><p>            Cassian sighs “are we going to just keep going over this and over this?” he asks “what do you want me to say or do, Nesta? I’ll do it. In a heartbeat, anything that you ask me. I messed up, I hated to watch what you were going through and I thought you hated me and that I couldn’t do anything about it, but I never-”</p><p>            “I named him Cassie” she says quietly “the bear, my parents rolled their eyes and told me it was a girl name, but it just… it was what felt right” her eyes stare at the ruby ribbon on his neck, noticing clearly that the shade is an exact match for the siphons that decorate Cassian’s leathers. She throws the bear onto the ground and Cassian looks down.</p><p>            “I don’t need him anymore” Nesta whispers, pulling Cassian closer to herself, lips finding his to complete the apologies and words of forgiveness that she just isn’t capable of saying in the traditional way. Her hands are quick and demanding as she pulls against his pants. Cassian pulls back for a moment, lifting his weight off of her.</p><p>            “Are you sure?”</p><p>            Nesta grins a little, carefully unzipping her dress and pulling it down her body. It falls to the foot of the bed in a whisper of silk and chiffon to reveal that she isn’t wearing a bra and the only thing blocking her from Cassian’s full view is a sinfully thin pair of cream silk panties.</p><p>            Cassian groans as her hands return to his pants, nearly losing his mind when she moves their bodies closer. He lets her strip him and stares at her like a goddess before him, His hands rest reverently on her naked waist, trailing up her ribcage, teasing circles around her breasts before dropping down again. Her panties rip so easily with the tiniest jerk of his finger and then Nesta smiles, laying down on the bed again, hand slowly moving up and down his painfully hard length.</p><p>            “I’m ready” she says simply, moving her fingers to trace down the vertebrate of his left wing.</p><p>            Cassian shudders, moving his hand so that it finds the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top apex of her thighs, he moves slowly and Nesta sighs.</p><p>            “I need more than that, Cassian. Give it to me” her voice is a command, and the many times that Cassian has thought he would fall onto his knees before her flash through his mind as he grins down at her. She is a Queen, and he is entirely at her mercy- mind, body, and soul.</p><p>            Cassian cannot describe the feeling as he slowly fits himself inside of Nesta other than to say that it is the moment when the final piece of a puzzle clicks into the picture. It’s complete, it is how everything was always meant to be. Whatever fate is, whatever part of the cauldron or the mother that he may believe in, Cassian knows that Nesta Archeron was made to be his home, and he to be hers- he can only hope.</p><p>“Harder” Nesta’s voice breaks Cassian from his thoughts and he looks down at her. Her teeth are gritted tight and her eyes squeezed shut as he moves inside of her. This isn’t right. He wants to look at her, to see her. He needs to know that she feels what he does.</p><p>            “are you sure?” Cassian asks for the second time, his voice is gentle, flitting across her skin like silk as his lips trace her neck. Cassian moves a bit more quickly, but still in carefully rhythmic circles.</p><p>            “Yes. Harder. Fuck me Cassian, just do it, please. Harder, I know you can go harder”</p><p>            Cassian pauses inside of her and looks down. She is tightly wound. Every muscle is taught and stiff.</p><p>            “look at me” he whispers. Nesta begrudgingly opens her eyes just a little and he smiles brightly “this isn’t like before” he whispers carefully, pulling himself out of her center despite her protest “I won’t let it be.” His lips begin a slow train down from her neck, kissing sensitive pieces of skin between his words “this isn’t something to grit your teeth through and get over with fast and hard. I love you, Nesta. I want to worship every inch of your body.”</p><p>            Her eyes widen as Cassian begins to move down farther, his large thumb once again circling over just the right spot between her legs as he slowly kisses his way down her throat, tongue sucking and teeth nipping at her breasts before his tongue makes a surprisingly graceful trail down her abdomen and immediately replaces his hand.</p><p>            “You don’t have to-”</p><p>            “I want to” he whispers against her core, the vibrations of his voice have her clenching a few inches below where his tongue is now circling. Nesta grips the sheets, not sure how to respond to this new sensation. Cassian is soft, gentle with his lips in a way that Nesta never expected. She starts to breathe harder, hips lifting without her permission as Cassian slowly uses his hand to move inside of her again.</p><p>            Nesta has had a lot of sex in the last year, but this is entirely different. Her vision starts to blur as she pants harder. Cassian continues the swirling motion of his tongue on her clit, moving his fingers up inside of her at just the right angle so that every piece of her is engaged. Nesta has never been so aware of her body, she didn’t know that pleasure could feel like this. He keeps going as she moans out her orgasm, slowing his pace to bring her carefully down. She can see stars and feel her ears ringing, as though her senses are blocking the feeling inside, refusing to let her forget that this is what it can feel like to join your body with someone else’s.</p><p>            “Cassian” she half pants “that was- I didn’t know-”</p><p>            He smirks that cocky grin of his and Nesta realizes that this is far from over. She has a few tricks up her sleeve as well.</p><p>            “why don’t you lay down” she whispers, recovering quickly from her moments of ecstasy “that looked like hard work”</p><p>            “I would hardly say that I am tired out” Cassian’s golden eyes flare with desire and Nesta blushes from even being looked at this way. She lets the sheet fall from the few tiny pieces of her body that it was covering and employs her fae strength to push the male back. They both know that he could overpower her if he wanted to, but he does not want to.</p><p>            “You know, I actually don’t mind flying with you” she smirks, trailing a careful finger down the membrane of his right wing. Cassian closes his eyes and lets his head fall back “it’s so nice of you to always offer me a <em>ride</em> places” Nesta grins a little at her own joke as she sits up on her knees, both hands on Cassian’s impossibly muscular chest.</p><p>            “hmmm” he hums, circling both hands easily around her waist as she hovers over him “is this your way of returning the favour?”</p><p>            “You could say that” she smiles, kissing his chest gently as she raises herself up and moves her right leg to the other side of his body, startling his abdomen just above where he wants her in the most deliciously torturous way</p><p>            “You really are a witch” he grins, eyes opening to lock on hers.</p><p>            Nesta uses her thighs to raise herself up and move down a few inches, sinking slowly onto his hard length, eyes fixed on his the entire time “and don’t you forget it” she smiles, moving her hips gently forward.</p><p>            Cassian’s hands fall to her bottom quickly, feeling her every movement against him as he tries to delay his relief. Nesta rocks back and forth for a few minutes and he can’t even catch his breath let alone figure out his thoughts while she is doing this.</p><p>            Cassian moves his hands up, feeling Nesta’s soft skin before he raises himself to meet her, sliding her farther onto him so that she is sitting in his lap and he is looking into her eyes. He brushes a piece of loose hair back and then catches her lips in his.</p><p>            The distraction of his kiss is enough that Nesta doesn’t even notice when Cassian flips them over, setting the pace to an infuriatingly slow and careful rocking of his body into hers. She bites her lip to stop from asking him to go harder again. Cassian smiles a little, as if reading her mind.</p><p>            He moves his hips faster against her, bringing one hand back to that magic spot that he knows will unravel her. Everything inside of his body is fighting to keep going until that moment when he sees Nesta’s lips part. She clenches around him once and suddenly they are both going over the edge.</p><p>            Cassian closes his eyes for a moment, enjoying this feeling. When he opens them again Nesta is crying, he moves quickly, terrified that he pushed her, that she didn’t want this.</p><p>            “I’m sorry Nesta did I-”</p><p>            “No” she says quietly “no it isn’t you, well it is but not like…” she pauses, pulling her legs up to her chest “I just… I didn’t know that it could be like that” her cheeks flush</p><p>            “Neither did I” Cassian admits, and he means it.</p><p>            “yeah right, you’ve probably been with goddesses and like magical sex nymphs and stuff”</p><p>            “I have” he admits with a wry smile “but I’ve never done this with someone I love, not in 500 years”</p><p>            “I’m scared I can’t go back now” she admits softly and Cassian can feel his entire body stiffen</p><p>            “if even a part of you feels like you could ever be with another after that then lay down again and I will find 100 different ways to ruin you for every other male in the way that you have ruined me for every other female”</p><p>            Nesta smiles “as fun as that sounds, I believe that we have a battle to fight”</p><p> </p><p> </p>
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<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Breath of the Dying</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>So this chapter actually has the headcannon that originally started this whole story, the moment that I pictured and wanted to write a story around. I understand that it might not be everyone's thing, but you have all been so wonderful as I write this story that I trust even if it isn't for you no one will be too harsh. I do hope you all enjoy!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 14</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>         Nesta and Cassian do not return to the Day Court that night. Nor do they get much sleep. They are both suited in tight leathers and ready to fly to the ironcrest camp long before the sun will rise. Today is the day. Today at sunrise they will learn if Kallon truly summited Ramiel. They will learn who survived the Rite and who didn’t. They will face off against an army of angry Illyrian soldiers.</p><p>         Soon they will do that, but right now Nesta just stares down at the hairbrush in her hand, not even able to raise it to her head as the memories hit her.</p><p>         Cassian kisses the top of her head gently, practically reading her mind as he gently takes the brush from her hands and starts to run it carefully through her wavy golden hair “I found it in the ruins of your home. The initials on the handle did not belong to any of you so I assumed it had to be-”</p><p>         “My mother’s” Nesta nods slowly, closing her eyes at the gentle feel of his fingers in her hair, slowly starting to pull the strands into a braid down her back.</p><p>         “What was her name?” Cassian asks, carefully pulling the strands tight enough that they won’t fall out but no so tight that they cause a headache.</p><p>         “Dyana” Nesta’s eyes open again as she feels her hair being tied at the end and set against her back “where did you learn to-”</p><p>         “Mor” he grins “she asked me to do it once about a century ago and when I said I didn’t know how she yelled at me that it was no different than when I braided rope to make a stronger hold, and as it turns out… she was right.”</p><p>         Nesta smiles “you care for her a great deal, don’t you?”</p><p>         Cassian nods “her and Rhys and Azriel… even Amren when she isn’t being such a tiny terror, they are the only family that I have ever really known”</p><p>         “She does not like me very much”</p><p>         “Mor doesn’t like anyone who takes the attention off of her” Cassian laughs “or anyone prettier than her”</p><p>         “She likes Feyre”</p><p>         “she always knew that Feyre was Rhys’ mate” he reminds Nesta gently, thankful when Nesta does not mention the implications of the word <em>always</em></p><p>         “I don’t care if none of them like me, you know that right? I’m not ready to be a part of that circle. Not yet, at least”</p><p>         Cassian laughs, shaking his head “was me building you a house hundreds of miles away from them not a clear enough indication that I know that?”</p><p>         Nesta smiles a little “I just don’t want you to be giving up your family for me.”</p><p>         “you are forgetting that I can fly, and they can winnow. Trust me, it isn’t such a sacrifice” he grins “and even if it were, you are worth it, Nesta. I need you to believe that. Whatever I had to give up for you, I would.”</p><p>         “I don’t want you to give up anything, I… I don’t want to change you” she looks down “I don’t want you to end up all dark and broken like me.”</p><p>         Cassian kneels down in front of her, lifting her chin so that their eyes meet “you are 25 Nesta, I can promise you that in my 5 centuries I have been to far darker places than you for far longer. I am only sad that I could not spare you the battle scars that I felt so many years ago. Falling in love with you is not a burden, Nesta. It is a gift.”</p><p>         “I-” Nesta looks at him warmly, her eyes softer than he has seen in a while, and he waits for the words that he hadn’t dared expect her to say so soon “we should go” she finishes calmly, turning her head to the window and Cassian simply nods. She isn’t ready, but he can wait.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>         The first ray of sunlight causes everyone at the Ironcrest camp to stiffen. The Lord who was not expecting the retinue from Velaris, the High Lord and Lady who are nervous to see what will become of this trip, and everyone else in attendance that is just standing stiffly.</p><p>         They all know that it will be several moments yet before even those who may have managed to summit Ramiel are transported back to camp, but everyone still waits with stiff anticipation.</p><p>         “I am so glad that you decided to join us, Amren” Nesta grits out, voice hard “though I would have expected you last night or even the night before”</p><p>         “I had no business with anyone here then” the raven haired well of power glares.</p><p>         “Is this really the best time? Stop your petty fighting.” Rhysand growls at both of them.</p><p>         “don’t give me commands” the 2 voices overlap, and the women stare deeply at each other, each cracking a semi-fond smile. Nesta sighs, as much as she hates to admit it, Rhysand is probably right. This fight has gone on long enough.</p><p>         “You are not a powerless shell” Nesta mutters so quietly that only she, Amren, and maybe Rhys can hear “that much is evident”</p><p>         Amren stares up “and you are not an unlovable shrew” Amren bares her teeth “at least one person seems to be able to manage your presence, if my superior sense of smell tells me anything.”</p><p>         Nesta’s eyes widen and Cassian and feyre look at her in surprise, but she schools her features into a mask of indifference quickly “I can’t wait for the next holiday at which Varian appears.”</p><p>         “You think that you insult me, girl, but look at you, smelling of the General and promising to be present at our next holiday celebration” Amren grins evilly and Nesta scowls back.</p><p>         They do not hate each other anymore. This is how women like them make up. Neither of them are going to apologize, that isn’t how they do things. When they can mock each other again all is well.</p><p>         “Does anyone else know what just happened?” everyone is surprised by the sound of Azriel’s voice, so much so that they all burst out into laughter.</p><p>         Raliar is glaring at the people who rule over him, a breath away from telling them to get out of his damn camp when a beam of white flashes into the middle of the camp.</p><p>         Everyone goes silent.</p><p>         Someone scaled Ramiel.</p><p>         Cassian takes a breath in and then-</p><p>         “Braken” he rushes forward, supporting the limping boy. Raliar growls at the sight of the slightly pudgy, dark-haired bastard boy that everyone had all but written off.</p><p>         “That isn’t possible” he snarls “someone must have carried him through”</p><p>         A quarter hour passes and young men continuously stream through flashes of white. Raliar’s face grown pale as he watches. It is not normal. One or two warriors scale Ramiel per century. For several to have done so in this single Rite… an alliance was formed.</p><p>         Cassian watches with a smirk as the Lord realizes what is happening.</p><p>         Kallon falls to the ground from that white burst. He is broken badly, bleeding, wings cut harshly. His father rushes forward, screaming at the boy to be a real male and get up at the same moment that Rhys calls for a healer.</p><p>         “There are no healers here” Raliar growls.</p><p>         “I think you will find that many things about Illyria are about to change”</p><p>         The newly transported warriors who weren’t too badly injured have passed off the worse ones and now stand in a bunch behind not their Lord or even their High Lord, but their General and trainer, growling and pointing swords at Raliar.</p><p>         Kallon shakes off the advances of the healer. He reaches for Cassian, tearing the tie from his hair and using it to form a careful tourniquet over the arm that is bleeding too heavily. Luckily it is not his sword arm. That arm he raises to his father.</p><p>         “What are you doing, boy” the Lord spits.</p><p>         “I am protecting my king and his mate”</p><p>         “you are no son of mine” Raliar growls “if you have become the trained dog of a High Lord” an army forms behind the lord in a second, as though they understand exactly what is happening.</p><p>         “I want the witch” one of them growls, staring at Nesta. Cassian steps forward angrily, power spitting out of his siphon that topples the male over.</p><p>         “Rhysand” Kallon grits out, pulling focus back to himself “is not who I am talking about.”</p><p>         All eyes quickly shift to the circle that has formed around Cassian and Nesta, everyone as surprised as the other. No one is fully aware in this moment.</p><p>        “Mother’s tits now, really? Fucking NOW” Cassian takes a breath in, tucking Nesta tightly behind him and in front of Braken, where she can be the most safe.</p><p>       “You thought it was a secret?” Braken laughs “I smelled it the second I was transported here”</p><p>       at the same moment that she is shifted, Nesta throws a hand to her chest and says “what is that, I’ve never felt my power-”</p><p>       “that wasn’t your power” Cassian grits out, sword still held taught in front of him “that was the mating bond.”</p><p>       Nesta does not have the luxury of being shocked, of careful contemplation and vulnerability like Elain did or blazing anger like Feyre did. Instead she grits her teeth, narrows her eyes in on the mob of warriors moving towards Cassian, nods her head and raises her hand above directly in front of her body, blasting a clear sky-blue mist into the army in front of her that is so powerful it takes over the entire camp. She hits Raliar head on, his body crumbling to dust before their eyes, but the magic that she let out is not done. It moves as if it has a mind of its own, cutting through enemies and leaving friends unscathed, moving like a magical plague upon the rioters houses, upon the soul of anyone who would threaten her mate.</p><p>       “What is that?” Rhysand asks, shock colouring his face. Nesta thinks that perhaps she should be afraid, if she can do something that the most powerful High Lord in Prythian history could not define or comprehend then maybe-</p><p>       "Blue clouds on the ground" Elain whispers, looking down at the mist that is still circling around the camp, tickling at her feet almost affectionately while simultaneously turning warriors into powder blue ash in front of her eyes "the breath of the dying."</p><p>       Nesta snaps her head up, remembering her sister's words from the day before.</p><p>       <em>Blue clouds on the ground</em>. Her power, Elain saw the blue before Nesta even did.</p><p>       <em>Breath of the Dying</em>. The Illyrian's, they went out like a breath of air, without a second to even see it coming.</p><p>       <em>Border of Melting Ice</em>. Càelar, she felt the exact shift from cold to warm, but also... her. She is the melting ice, she can see it in her sister's eyes.</p><p>       <em>Mountain and valley</em>. Ramiel and Càelar, the victory happening on the mountain and the lives starting in the valley.</p><p>       That just leaves...</p><p>       <em>Old world come to new</em>. What does it mean? Nesta raises her gaze to Elain, who can see the question in her eyes but merely shakes her head. Later, it will become clear later.</p><p>       “The balance of the cauldron” Helion breaks in, addressing Rhysand's question, clearly oblivious to nesta's silent realizations. He steps over the glittering blue dust that was once an Illyrian soldier “life and death”</p><p>       The High Lord of Night is still in shock “But how-”</p><p>       “Anger flashes is white rage, sorrow pulses grey to choke and immobilize, joy shimmers gold as it heals and protects… that, I can only imagine, with its discernment and swiftness, was love.”</p><p>       “Does that mean-” Cassian spins around to face Nesta as he speaks, looking at her like she is some sort of goddess that is at the same time tempting and frightening. She has never actually said those words back to him, so…</p><p>       “Yes, it’s true” Nesta deadpans “I’m in love with Helion.”</p><p>       Cassian’s eyebrows shoot into his hairline as Rhys, Feyre, Azriel and Helion keel over in laughter, practically rolling in the dirt.</p><p>       “I didn’t need some magical bond to click into place to know that I love you, Cassian.”</p><p>       Cassian stares up at her, pulling himself to his feet he wraps his thick arms around her, holding on as if he will never let go, as if she might disappear in a puff of her own mist “I love you, Nesta Archeron, gods know that I don’t deserve you, but I love you.”</p><p>       “You certainly don’t” she says wryly “but I suppose fate has saddled me with you” she shrugs a little, a smile still playing on her lips.</p><p>       “Better that you have to deal with him for eternity than I” Rhys grins from behind the couple in his own strange way of letting Nesta know that she was right, that all must be well between them for the sake of this giant idiot that they both love “word of warning, he eats 9 times a day and drinks all of the good wine unless you hide it”</p><p>       Mor huffs out an annoyed breath “so is there not going to be a battle today after all?”</p><p>       Helion nods “I suppose not”</p><p>       “Doesn’t this feel just a little anti-climactic to anyone else?” Mor throws her sword down “I was hoping to cut down at least a few dozen trumped up Illyrian bastards”</p><p>       “I don’t know how I-” Nesta is still standing in shock, looking around the camp at the destruction that she seems to have caused without really even trying.</p><p>       “I’d say that is something that will be heard across worlds” Amren grins.</p><p>       “I still don’t think I understand” Feyre looks just as confused as her sisters.</p><p>       “It was the mating bond clicking into place” Helion shrugs “you know that mates can get overly… protective after the bond snaps. It makes sense that having that happen in the face of an imminent threat with a person whose powers are controlled by emotion would produce something that we have never seen before.”</p><p>         Nesta closes her eyes and channels all of the fear that she can feel in this moment to throw that grey barrier up to once again lock her and Cassian into a bubble of their own.</p><p>         “How do you feel?” Cassian’s hazel gaze looks down at Nesta with concentrated concern, his brows are knit together as he tries to observe her.</p><p>         “I don’t know. I just… I needed a minute away from everyone, to figure out how I feel.”</p><p>         “But you brought me in here with you?”</p><p>         Nesta looks up “you aren’t everyone, Cassian.”</p><p>         He smiles, stepping closer Cassian wraps his arms tightly around Nesta. She lets her body fold into his, every curve of her small frame melts easily into his muscled torso and Cassian wraps his wings around her. Nesta has not felt so safe in as long as she can remember. She takes a deep breath in, the intoxicating scent of her mate taking over every sense she has.</p><p>         “I do love you, Cassian” she whispers almost inaudibly into his chest.</p><p>         Cassian looks down, smiling at the sight of Nesta curled into him, her head buried in his shirt. He rests his chin on her head and grips her even tighter to him, as though she might slip away if he doesn’t. “I love you more than you could ever imagine, Nesta Archeron.”</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I'm sorry if anyone thinks this was anti-climactic. I sort of channeled those views through Mor, but I've always thought that Nesta would release something major when the mating bond clicked and this is what my personal fantasy had in mind. This is not the end of the story so stay tuned, but I hope that people don't feel let down!! I am so grateful for the amazing reviews that I have received so far and I would hate for anyone to feel like they put their time into something that wasn't what they were hoping for.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. And you? What do you deserve?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know this was a longer than usual wait, but it's also a longer than usual chapter so enjoy the beginning of the falling action. Just a note that I always imagined this story being about 20 chapters and I still think that is pretty much what will make sense but I might add an epilogue of some kind as well! Enjoy that cover release tomorrow everyone :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Chapter 15:</p><p> </p><p>          “I know what you can get me for my birthday” Nesta says calmly, simply. It’s a ridiculous thing to say while the powdered remains of the better part of an Illyrian village are still laying at her feet.</p><p>          “Is that so?” Rhys raises an eyebrow, looking over the woman who is to be his sister in more than one sense of the word. She is not a sister that he would have chosen, but he can’t deny that she makes his brother happy, and that she has been instrumental in maintaining the integrity of his realm. Illyrian, he had once called her. She certainly looks it right now, standing before him on a battleground wearing those leathers with her hair braided tightly back and a dangerous glint in her eye.</p><p>           “As I’m sure you know, Cassian built me a house” Rhys only nods at her even tone “it’s a perfect replica of our childhood home” she continues “which means that it doesn’t have a library. I want one. Big shelves, windows, dark wood floors, a window bench. I want something pulled straight from the pages of my novels.”</p><p>           “Building you a house wasn’t enough?” Rhys deadpans.</p><p>            Nesta scowls at him, making it clear that she is no happier about their newfound siblinghood than he is “of course it was, it was more than enough. That’s why I’m asking you and not Cassian. He doesn’t owe me anything-”</p><p>            “And I do?”</p><p>            Nesta takes a breath in, choosing not to mention the months of abandonment or the fact that it was his war she was thrown into the cauldron because of. “You gave your mate a palace for her birthday, I think that you can muster a library for you <em>sister</em>” Nesta sneers the word at him and then pauses “it helps” her voice is so silent that if Rhys weren’t fae he would mistake it for the wind rustling “being in Helion’s library helped me think and calm down, and… <em>control</em> whatever this is inside of me.”</p><p>            Rhys shakes his head, more than aware of the fear and lack of control that can come along with being more powerful than any being probably should be “the two of us may be the most like real siblings of anyone in this group, Nesta.”</p><p>            “Because we are always fighting and can’t really tell if we like each other or are just stuck with each other for all of eternity because of family?”</p><p>            “Precisely” Rhys sighs, looking at the female in front of him and really seeing her for maybe the first time. Seeing the pain behind the ice in her glare, the power that crawls under her skin. They may be more alike than either of them will ever admit. “I’ll have the library made by the end of the week. Consider it a peace offering.”</p><p>            Nesta allows her lips to move upwards just a smidge. It could almost be called a smile. “Thank you. In return I will agree to come to solstice next year.” Rhys’ eyes light a little at her promise, knowing how happy it will make Feyre and glad that he will continue to celebrate with his brother “though I will expect similarly extravagant gifts if this arrangement is to be maintained” Nesta’s lip quirks up even more, half joking.</p><p>            Rhys laughs “I have to shop for Amren, I’m used to extravagant gifts” Nesta just nods and the two of them look over at the General and High Lady who stand across the village square from them, seeing Feyre elbow Cassian in a teasing manner. They both smile.</p><p>            “You don’t deserve her, you know” Nesta whispers, looking softly at her sister, who moves with such ease and confidence as she addresses the remaining Illyrians, assuring them that there is no reason to panic, no further threat unless they wish to push the issue of the new Lord of Ironcrest.</p><p>            “I know” he sighs “and you don’t deserve him” Nesta shifts her gaze to Cassian who seems to sense that he is being watched and looks up with a blinding smile, so soft and warm and easy. Something lights up inside of her chest, right in the center as if she can actually feel his smile inside of herself.</p><p>            “I know.”</p><p>            It might be the smallest of truces, and it might only be a start- but Rhysand and Nesta both nod to each other, knowing that at least there is something they can agree on. In that moment neither of them will admit it, but they just might manage to put up with each other for the rest of their immortal lives. Well… mostly, at least.</p><p>           </p>
<hr/><p>            “So what comes next?” Nesta asks once the full inner circle plus she, Helion and Elain has gathered in the center of the village, awaiting the return of those Blood Rite warriors not lucky enough to have been transported back via Ramiel’s magic.</p><p>            “We have to visit the other villages and see how word of what happened today is spreading. If it is impacting the other rebels, these were the leaders and we need to know if the revolution has stopped, or if we merely gave them martyrs.” Azriel speaks in his quiet, steady tone. The shadows that dance across his arms pulse and pull away, a clear indication to everyone that he is already beginning that particular task.</p><p>            “We have to wait and talk to those who were not aligned with Kallon” Cassian’s voice is firm “some of them are real pricks and whatever the case in the other villages, we can’t risk losing the ground that we have built up today.”</p><p>            “We have to look more closely into the consequences of Nesta’s power. What I have said was only speculation. Someone should take the Lordling and determine if it is in fact only those who wished ill to the General that were taken out. Not to mention what exactly happened to them” Helion casts his gaze to the thin layer of powder blue dust that coats the ground.</p><p>            “We have to speak to the people, they must be so afraid” Elain’s voice is quiet, looking around at the panicked faces of women and children that peak out of windows, the screams of despair that followed Nesta’s power surge still echoing in her mind.</p><p>            “Or we could keep them guessing when the next massacre is coming if they keep defying us” Amren bares her teeth.</p><p>            With all of the different opinions given every pair of eyes turns slowly to the High Lord and Lady of Night.</p><p>            Rhys pinches the bridge of his nose “ok, everyone is right. There is much to be done. Az this is still Illyria, it can take time for word to spread. For now send your spies out to gather sentiment, but we should give the other villages a few days to recoup from the Rite before we visit them. When the time comes Cassian you and I will make rounds to every village. We will also need to discuss how this… transition of power might work.”</p><p>            Cassian nods “what of this village?”</p><p>            “Azriel, can you stop at Windhaven and retrieve what we discussed this morning? Feel free to check in on the young warriors and ascertain sentiment as well.” The Spymaster nods and disappears into shadow.</p><p>            “We can discuss that more when Azriel returns” Rhys’ voice is soft and contemplative. Cassian raises an eyebrow, but nods sharply.</p><p>            “Helion, if you wish to inspect this magic on your own please feel free to do so, I cannot say that I would be much help in that regard, but-”</p><p>            “I will come with you” Feyre offers “perhaps tapping into some of the other High Lord’s power might help”</p><p>            Helion nods in agreeance “I am not certain if we will be able to ascertain anything, but an investigation cannot hurt.”</p><p>            “Should I come with you?” Nesta asks</p><p>            “I think it would be best if Nesta and Elain return to the Day Court” Rhys’ voice is hard, but not commanding. “We will be talking to the survivors, and it may-”</p><p>            “scare them for the witch to be here, I get it. What do you want us to do?” Feyre and Elain exchange a confused look at Nesta and Rhysand at the realization that they are both skipping over prime opportunities to insult each other. Feyre’s lip quirks to the side, clearly avoiding laughing at something Rhys is saying in her mind.</p><p>            “Isn’t it obvious?” Mor finally joins the conversation, grinning “you are going to help me set up the victory party”</p><p>            “Excuse me?” Nesta’s gaze is withering and for the first time she and Rhysand appear to be entirely on the same page.</p><p>            “Oh come on, you said it yourself Rhys, there are still weeks, maybe months of very difficult, very delicate political work to do and possibly even more battles. There is very little we can do tonight specifically, so can’t we just enjoy this victory? Nesta blew off her birthday yesterday so we didn’t even get a real party, I want a party” the ancient fae stamps her foot like an incredibly endearing six year old and Helion grins.</p><p>            “Far be it from me to ever deny a beautiful female a party”</p><p>            “Keep it small” Rhys is still stone faced “and we will still be discussing business, but if you insist, we can do it with food and wine”</p><p>            “The only way that I like to discuss business” Helion grins “Nesta knows the right people to ask for what we will need” he waves a hand.</p><p>            Mor turns to the two eldest Archeron sisters, holding out her hands. Nesta looks briefly at Cassian who nods in approval, desperate for her to be far away from this camp when the other young warriors return. The ones who are just stupid enough to pick a fight.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>           “Rhysand was wrong, as usual” Mor pulls out the leather strap holding her ponytail on top of her head and tosses her hair.</p><p>           “What do you mean?” Elain asks</p><p>            Mor haults, seeming to realize that she spoke aloud, and then she sighs “Elain would you mind if I had a moment alone with Nesta?”</p><p>           “Why?” Nesta’s eyes narrow, suspicious considering Morrigan has certainly never attempted to have a private moment with her before.</p><p>           “I have a gift for you” Nesta’s eyebrows disappear into her hairline at the shock of that statement. “Why don’t we all go take a bath first. I will meet you in your room in an hour” Mor disappears before Nesta can protest.</p><p>           “I have a birthday gift for you as well” Elain smiles shyly “but it’s just more books so I will leave them with you before I depart”</p><p>           “Thank you, sister.”</p><p>            An hour later Nesta steps into a loose silk dressing gown, letting her damp curls fall down her back as she stares out the window at the blazing Day Court sun. Sixty minutes is not near enough time for her to have worked through the events of today in her mind, nor was it enough to even begin contemplating what Mor might want.</p><p>            As if on cue the other woman enters the room, hair dry and falling down her back in long golden curls. Nesta wonders briefly how she managed to bathe, style her hair, and already be wrapped inside of that floor length silk and sheer mesh contraption that she has the nerve to call a ‘dress’. As if she can read her mind, Mor just shrugs and tosses her hair behind her shoulder. She offers Nesta a goblet of sparkling fae wine and holds up the bottle, which she must have grabbed from the kitchens, with a smirk. If an outsider were watching them it might look as if the two are girlfriends about to have a sleepover. Nesta narrows her eyes in suspicion at the female in front of her, but Mor just raises her own glass to clink against Nesta’s and they both take a few sips of the bubbling liquid in silence.</p><p>          “well thank you for the wine, I suppose, but-”</p><p>          “Oh that is not the gift” Mor says quickly “I just figured we could both use a drink or six if this whole ‘us bonding’ thing is about to happen.”</p><p>          “You really don’t need to do that. In fact, I’d rather you didn’t”</p><p>          “Rhys isn’t the only one who was wrong. I was too, I overheard you guys talking. You do deserve Cassian, Nesta.”</p><p>          Something inside of Nesta clenches at the mention of his name and she stares determinedly at her glass. The last thing that she needs is Mor sucking up to her because she thinks now that Nesta is Cassian’s mate it means they have to be best friends. Kumbaya and fake pleasantries are not exactly the Nesta Archeron way.</p><p>         “I certainly did not think that you deserved him when I first met you, but-” Mor pauses, sighing heavily and taking another sip of wine “I have known you are mates for a while. Not officially of course, but I was quite sure. I thought at first that it was your power that made the cauldron put the two of you together, and I was pissed about it, but I see now that it is more than that.”</p><p>          Nesta would not know what to say even if Mor did pause long enough to let her speak.</p><p>          “I guess what I’m trying to say is that no one in our world truly understands what you have been through. I know that, and I cannot speak to the cauldron” Mor pauses, shaking her head “but of all people I am the one who knows what it is to have gone through the other things that you have. To lose everything, to find yourself without a family, broken and alone in the world. I… I know what it is to be raised as a female for one purpose, and to face a world of men who… feel entitled to you, who <em>take </em>things from us.”</p><p>          Nesta swallows hard as she stares at the female in front of her, soft brown eyes meeting clouded grey ones, both swirling with the same pain and scars. They both know pieces of the other’s story, jagged edges that they have snapped together in their minds based on overheard whispers and tightly clipped comments. Still, knowing the words of what a person has been through and looking into the eyes of someone who has been broken in the same ways as you are entirely different things.</p><p>          “I do not think that we will ever be the best of friends, Nesta Archeron” Mor admits “and there is something so wrong in that, something so entirely wrong about the fact that neither of us can stand to face another who has been abused and broken in the same ways that we have”</p><p>           Nesta nods, finally starting to soften just a little “what does this have to do with Cassian?”</p><p>          “He is broken too” Mor sighs “he was left alone and unwanted for a long time. He was hard for a long time, I remember it. I remember not liking him very much, if I’m being honest. Azriel was always the warm, open one of those 3” Nesta raises an eyebrow, not sure that warm is a word she would use to describe the silent spymaster “I guess what I’m trying to say, ultimately, is that I think Cassian will be good for you, and you for him.”</p><p>         “Hopefully the cauldron or the mother or whatever mystical force decides these stupid mate things didn’t fuck up too badly, you mean?” Nesta is tired, her display of power took more out of her than she is letting show, and forced interactions with all of these people who love Cassian is not helping her nerves “Cassian is his own person, Mor. You don’t have to do this because you think I’m going to drag him off to my ice palace and lock him away and never let him see any of you. Whatever you all think of me, I’m not trying to change Cassian or steal him from you. I didn’t ask him to quit being General and move to Illyria, that was all him so if you’re gearing up for some sort of lecture or to ask me to free him from my evil witch spell I really don’t know what to tell you.”</p><p>          Mor shrinks back from Nesta’s hard stare. Guilt settles in her center, because Nesta is not all that far off from what Mor <em>did</em> think a few weeks or even days ago. She and Rhys have had some very unkind conversations about the eldest Archeron sister. Nesta isn’t a witch though, she isn’t even actually as cold and aloof as she wants everyone to believe. Mor can see that now, her words are sharp and carefully chosen, but they are also a defense mechanism. She is sizing up the enemy and trying to strike before she can be hit. Not a bad battle tactic, a little simplistic, but definitely a strategy that works.</p><p>           “I’m not here to lecture you about anything. I really am here to give you something. It’s for you and Cassian, and it isn’t a birthday gift. It’s a mating gift”</p><p>           “I did not realize that this is the sort of occasion for which one is expected to give a gift” Nesta stares ahead blankly “I suppose I owe Rhys and Feyre a set of silverware.”</p><p>           Mor laughs and Nesta is annoyed because it is actually a very pleasant, inviting sound. “That is sort of why I’m doing this. It occurred to me when you did not recognize the feeling of the bond this morning that you probably do not know very much about how it works”</p><p>           “I take it from everyone’s reaction that wiping out a village of enemies with a highly selective bought of death power that left innocents completely unharmed is not typical, but other than that I admit I do not know much.”</p><p>           “it is more than just the initial bond snapping into place, there is a choice to be made afterward. I imagine Cass is quite stressed and wound up right now waiting for you to tell him that you are or are not accepting the bond, and with everyone else in their own world I realized that if I don’t step in now we are going to end up with weeks of awkward interactions where he thinks you are rejecting him but you have no idea that you are supposed to ‘accept’ anything and of course he would not even realize that you don’t know because he is a pigheaded male and they really know nothing.”</p><p>           “What happens if you accept the bond?” Nesta ignores Mor’s nervous babbling, cutting to the important part.</p><p>           “You’ll be connected like Rhys and Feyre with that mental mind bond thing, you will be able to feel him and he you in a completely unique way” Nesta’s mind casts back to that smile that warmed her just this morning and all of the times that he looked at her like he knew exactly what was going on inside of her mind. She wonders if perhaps it has already started. <em>Great</em>, she thinks absentmindedly, <em>I can barely handle my own emotions and now I have to deal with his too?</em> “but there will also be a very uncomfortable period for a while after you, for lack of a better word, mate for the first time. Typically the male gets very jealous and the pair doesn’t leave the bedroom for days or even weeks. Rhys almost tore Cassian’s head off after he mated Feyre just because of some stupid comment”</p><p>           “Um” Nesta’s cheeks brighten a little, betraying her “we’ve already-”</p><p>           “that doesn’t matter” Mor waves her hand “anything before the bond isn’t really a mating, it’s just sex. Really good sex, if I remember Cassian at all” mor grins.</p><p>           Nesta feels a growl in her throat and she glares at the other female.</p><p>           “Right, and some females can get very jealous and territorial too. Sorry, I was just trying to lighten the mood but that was not the right way to go.”</p><p>           “What happens if you don’t accept the bond?”</p><p>           Mor widens her eyes a little, truly afraid for her friend for the first time in all of this. Any fear she had about Cassian and Nesta being mates was largely for herself, she never really considered that Nesta might not accept the bond.</p><p>           “There are those who reject the bond, it is… very difficult. You will never really feel whole. Males who have been rejected by their mates have gone mad before, it is… uncommon for a bond not to be accepted so I do not know as much, but it does happen.”</p><p>           Nesta nods “I was asking for Elain, I did not know what it meant to have a mate before, I am more worried now for her refusing to see that Autumn male”</p><p>           “Oh” Mor says carefully “I would not worry about that yet, many couples take longer to accept the bond, and the rejection tends to have a much stronger effect on the male, territorial bastards that they are.”</p><p>           “I wouldn’t do that to him, just so you know. We may not be friends, but I know that he loves you very much and you him. I don’t really care what anyone thinks of me, but I do want you to know that I wouldn’t hurt him like that.”</p><p>           “Thank you for telling me.”</p><p>            Nesta rests her head in her hands “this is a lot to take in”</p><p>           “I haven’t gotten to my gift yet” Mor grins, standing “typically when a bond snaps the couple will hold a party or gathering of some kind, that’s why I insisted on our victory celebration” she grins, satisfied with her own slyness “the party is so that the female can accept the bond by offering the male food and then the male accepts by eating it and the crazy sex frenzy can begin. So-” Mor stops, turning to Nesta “gift number one isn’t really a gift, but I cleared all of the kitchens so that if you do want to make something you will have privacy. You can also just grab a hunk of stale bread and shove it in his face, doesn’t really matter and that animal probably won’t know the difference anyway”</p><p>           “I’ll make something” Nesta says quickly, standing with resolve “he made me a house so I can probably manage some muffins. I know he likes lemon.”</p><p>           Mor swallows a retort about Cassian liking all sorts of bitter things and instead smiles “great, I’ll leave you to it. Gift number 2 will be hung up in your wardrobe before you get back. I just have to winnow out to Velaris to grab it”</p><p>           Morrigan disappears in a fog before there is time to object, that seems to be her go to move, Nesta notes with a sigh.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p>           “I don’t like this” Cassian growls inside of the cabin that he and his brothers have taken up residence in while a child is allowed to go around doing their job.</p><p>           “You are the one who wanted to make the boy a Lord fresh off the Rite, brother. If he is going to lead what remains of this camp, then he needs to be the one to talk to his people.”</p><p>           “He’s too young, I can lead the camp until it is rebuilt at least, let me-”</p><p>           “You will have other, far more important things to do in the coming weeks, brother.” Rhysand leans back against his chair “I hear that there is some idiot High Lord who plans to crown you King of Illyria.”</p><p>           “Yeah, that guy lost his mind centuries ago, though. I wouldn’t trust him.”</p><p>           “Agreed” Feyre’s lilting voice joins that group as she and Helion push into the cabin.</p><p>           “Kallon is doing well, commander” Helion nods “part of being a leader is allowing others to do the things that you cannot. Relinquishing power is difficult but having dedicated people under you is necessary.”</p><p>           “Agreed” Rhys shrugs “I left your sorry ass in charge of my armies when you weren’t much older than Kallon, and that worked out pretty well.”</p><p>           “I had already been in a war”</p><p>           “Should we start another one so that the boy can say the same now that he is blooded?” Rhys stands and claps a hand on his brother’s shoulder “the boy lead a rebellion, banded young soldiers together, and pulled an unprecedented number of men to the top of Ramiel. He is from this village, he knows these people, and with his mate now reinstalled by his side” a nod to Azriel “he is the best equipped to make these people trust him-”</p><p>           “Was bringing Terria back a good idea?” Cassian looks around the room for support “they are no doubt going to accept the bond, and that will leave him distracted. Not an ideal time to be taking up a command.”</p><p>           Rhys raises an eyebrow, not needing to verbalize the hypocrisy in Cassian’s words, and sensing from his brother’s warning growl that it is not a topic to broach right now.</p><p>           “Kallon can handle this” Azriel finally speaks from where he stands in the corner, shadows licking his skin, whispering softly “and if he can’t then we will deal with that later. This village is not exactly a threat thanks to your-” he clears his throat at Cassian’s glare “Nesta.”</p><p>           “Ah yes, the beautiful and powerful elephant in the room” Helion grins broadly, feeling none of the same trepidation at Cassian’s stalking and warning growls. “Shall we discuss what lovely Feyre and I have discovered or start with a heart to heart about that mating bond finally clicking and surprising literally no one?”                                            </p><p>           “What did you find” Cassian spits, eyes narrowed in unnecessary jealousy from the ‘beautiful and powerful’ comment.</p><p>            “easy there commander” Helion laughs “if she were interested in what I have to offer then I promise she would have had the opportunity to collect long ago”</p><p>            Rhysand throws his hand out, feeling Cassian about to lunge at the High Lord. “What did you determine?”</p><p>           “Nothing certain” Helion shrugs, settling himself into a wooden chair near Azriel’s corner as Feyre moves towards her mate. “I have my suspicions, but more research will be required.”</p><p>           “I have a thought” Feyre swallows and Helion’s head snaps up, clearly surprised. “Not because of anything in the village, but because of something that I was told once. It didn’t make sense at the time, but-”</p><p>           “The carver” Cassian breathes, eyes meeting Feyre’s and she just nods.</p><p>           “he said that the wind whispered her name, that the sea and water and rocks were afraid of her, trembled when she emerged. I thought… I thought that he was just teasing you, that he was trying to manipulate us, but it was more than that.”</p><p>           “She isn’t a death God” Cassian shakes his head “not with the healing and barriers and everything else she can do-”</p><p>           “No” Feyre nods “she isn’t a death God. I think.. I don’t know how to phrase it properly, but I think that she stole a piece of the fabric of Prythian right out of the cauldron. The cauldron made our world and I think somehow she…took a part of it into herself. Helion was right in part, it’s connected to her emotions, that is how she controls it, but Cassian you said that it felt like you were suffocating when she was sad, like it took the air right out of your lungs” he nods “and the healing, I haven’t seen her do it, but I imagine that it looks like breathing life into someone”</p><p>           Cassian nods “she healed my neck once, it was like…”</p><p>           “like a breath of fresh air” Helion says “I told her that it felt like she was giving life”</p><p>            Feyre nods “and the shields, solid blocks of whirling grey wind that leave her in the eye of the storm. The wind doesn’t just whisper her name, she controls a piece of the very air. That is how her attack was so precise. She didn’t know what she was doing, but the power swept through the village like a strong wind, weaving in and out of homes and buildings. It made dust of everyone who was against her, like a more pointed, more controlled version of that cauldron blast. Dust.”</p><p>            Cassian swallows hard, the memory still fresh in his mind. Watching the remnants of his army fall through the sky like a rain of death. The idea that with what Nesta took from the cauldron she could control a death blast like that “Helion once said that he thought she was some sort of balance between the worlds of mortals and fae”</p><p>           “That makes sense” Feyre nods, quickly peering into Helion’s mind which he opens to her “Last night Elain shared her visions with me, one of them was ‘Breath of the dying’. Air is the one thing that can pass the wall, that surrounds us all, the bone carver said that there was fear when she emerged, but who is afraid and who is not can be entirely a matter of perspective”</p><p>           Cassian shakes his head, having never been much of a philosopher “are we ever really going to <em>know</em> what she is?” he asks quietly.</p><p>           To everyone’s surprise it is Rhysand who speaks “she is your mate. What else matters?”</p><p>            It is the first time anyone has said it out loud since the bond snapped into place. Cassian turns to his brother and nods softly “I love her”</p><p>           “I know.”</p><p>           “Um” Helion snorts from his chair “I’d say it also matters that she is on our damn side.” He points a teasing finger at Cassian “Don’t fuck this one up boy, I am looking forward to a nice long retirement from wars.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>I've fallen into a Nessian fanfic hole yet again so if anyone has some good suggestions from any website let me know! I've read most of the big ones, but would love some lesser known suggestions or just ones you that are your favorites! Thanks!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0017"><h2>17. Blood Rubies for the General's Queen</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This chapter is longer than usual and still couldn't manage to get through everything I had planned for this mating night! I hope you all enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 16:</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>            Mor ties the sparkling black fabric loosely against the back of Nesta’s neck and steps back to admire her handiwork. The other female looks only a little uncomfortable, and Mor decides that she will get over it. It’s worth it to look that damn good. Her eyes sweep over Nesta in careful appraisal before she allows her to walk to the mirror.</p><p>            The top of the dress is a glittering black fabric, tied with a thick strap of material around her neck, the material dips low in 2 panels from there and rests tightly against her the sides of her breasts before connecting to the tied waist of the gown, leaving the entirety of her back and more of her arms and front than Nesta is used to showing completely bare, everything that needs to be covered is, but Mor did say this was a gift for Cassian as well. Mor double checks the careful knots tied right at the dip of Nesta’s waist in the back, admiring how the fabric of the dress flares outward at her hips, a gentle gradient from black to sparkling ruby red taking over the bottom of the dress which falls in structured glittering pleats to the floor. She restrained herself from adding the slit that she so desired, figuring it would be enough of a chore to talk Nesta into the top of the dress. <em>Damn I’m good</em>, Mor thinks to herself with a grin as she gestures Nesta to the mirror.</p><p>            “Oh wait one more thing” Mor moves quickly to open the box she brought with her, intentionally fumbling with the latch to give Nesta a moment to take herself in. When she can sense that the other female is not going to rip the dress off she moves behind her, easily slipping the white gold chain of the necklace under the fabric at Nesta’s neck, her hair is braided up in its usual style so maneuvering the pendant to sit exactly where she wants it against the girl’s pale skin is a simple task.</p><p>            Nesta’s eyes widen a little at the large oval gemstone set in a cameo style with twisting patterns of white gold around the biggest ruby she has ever seen in her life. It is the exact colour as the bottom of her dress, and she realizes suddenly... Cassian’s siphons.</p><p>            “Where did you-”</p><p>            “It’s a blood ruby from the summer court. The one put on Rhys’ head to be more specific.” Nesta’s lip quirks up a fraction “the threat was rescinded before the war, but I thought you might enjoy the sentiment nonetheless.” She pauses “the part of the setting crossing over it are Illyrian symbols.”</p><p>            Nesta spends several moments studying the delicate swirls and dips of the almost impossibly thin delicate metal that moves around and over the ruby stone, recognizing certain twists and patterns from where they lay etched in black on Cassian’s body. She looks up at Mor, unsure exactly what to say “thank you” her voice is quiet, eyes still caught on the necklace.</p><p>            “The necklace is all yours, but don’t be surprised if that dress goes missing from your closet one day.”</p><p>            Nesta’s mind goes immediately back to one of her first interactions with Morrigan and she looks up softly “so long as you do not rip it from my body. I am alright with that”</p><p>            Mor barks out a laugh “no promises” she pauses “the others are back, I am going to go make sure everyone is appropriately dressed and check on the food and wine. You have exactly one hour to admire yourself in the mirror and mentally prepare yourself to be in the company of everyone again. If you are not in the main hall within that time I will come up and drag you down myself, because I am <em>not</em> letting a look this good go to waste. I really have outdone myself” Mor flounces out of the room and Nesta swears only a moment later she can hear her berating Rhysand about his choice of pants.</p><p>            Grateful for the moment alone Nesta stares down at the silver box sitting on her side table. She bites her lip carefully and sighs, setting out in search of someone with the ability to winnow.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>            Cassian hears delicate footsteps and the swishing of skirts outside of his door, slowing as they approach. It is not Nesta, he would feel her. It is not Feyre or Mor because they are not near polite enough to stand debating whether or not to knock so that only leaves one option.</p><p>            “Come in, Elain.”</p><p>            The door creaks open slowly and her wide brown eyes stare at him a little sheepishly as she glides into the room.</p><p>            “It is always strange to me, seeing you out of your battle clothes” she stares at Cassian’s tightly fitted navy shirt, noting that the exposed muscles at his forearm tense a little as she speaks “the other two are fighters of course, but I suppose you have just always been the one who was a pure warrior in my eyes” Cassian raises an eyebrow, unsure what to say “that is a good thing" she assures him "Nesta has always needed someone strong, capable. She would slice through a lesser man with only a gaze.”</p><p>            “Oh, I am not proud enough to deny that she has certainly sliced through me with a glare on several occasions” he flashes a crooked grin.</p><p>            “I was there with her, after Tomas” Cassian’s jaw clenches, having never actually managed to draw the name of the bastard who did that to her out of Nesta “she never told me, even now she has still never actually told me, but I knew. The second she came home I knew.” Elain pauses with a graceful sigh “she did not tell me because she didn’t want to worry me. She thought that I was too… delicate for such things. She told you though, even when we were still human.” Cassian doesn’t ask how she knows that, and she does not provide an answer. her eyes merely glazing over and looking through him as they have the tendency to do. “That is what I mean when I say that she needs someone strong, not that she needs anyone to protect her, but someone who will not look away from the hard things in life.”</p><p>            “Avoiding difficult things in life has never been my strong suit” he admits, pausing “why are you here, Elain?”</p><p>            “Earlier today Mor asked to speak to Nesta alone” Cassian looks up, cursing under his breath. <em>Dammit Mor why can’t you ever just mind your own business. </em>“don’t worry” Elain assures him quickly “that... the two of them, it will turn out well enough... eventually.”</p><p>            Cassian will never admit how big of a relief that is. He doesn't dare ask if Elain might happen to know anything about Rhys. “Thank you for letting me know.”</p><p>            “That isn’t why I am here” Cassian raises an eyebrow yet again “it occurred to me that all of these people, your fmaily, were probably going to be telling Nesta not to hurt you or something of that nature.”</p><p>            “and you are here to do the same on her behalf?”</p><p>            Elain smiles sweetly, stepping closer to Cassian “I am here to remind you who shoved that dagger through Hybern’s neck, and why I did it.”</p><p>            Cassian nods swiftly “duly noted.” and it is. The sight of Elain taking that first killing blow before Nesta twisted and twisted that blade into Hybern's neck is not an image he will soon forget.</p><p>            “Good, now that is out of the way” she grins knowingly, he supposes that everything she does is knowingly “there is something that you wish to give my sister.”</p><p>            Cassian grins back “I already showed her the house, she loved it.” Cassian swallows hard around a comment about them having already <em>broken</em> <em>it in</em>, so to speak.</p><p>            “Not that, though I am glad she liked it.” She smiles “something more important. Something that you have been saving for a very long time indeed. Tonight is the time.”</p><p>            Cassian stares at her, jaw slack and mouth dry as he realizes what she is implying. He is very glad that it is the Archeron without a mean or teasing bone in her body that inherited the gift of seeing “Elain, I do not want to push her. I don’t know if this is the best time for-”</p><p>            “Tonight” Elain says with a resolute nod of her head “old world come to new.”</p><p>            Cassian blinks hard, taking in the careful set of Elain’s shoulders, the wisdom beyond her years that is etched into her beautiful face, brown eyes staring into him as though she knows all of his secrets, and perhaps she does.</p><p>            Mor knocks on the door to alert those inside to her presence, entering before anyone actually gives her permission to do so “Elain you look lovely as always” she comments with a smile, admiring the spring green chiffon gown “Cassian, you bathed. Shocking.”</p><p>            Cassian barks out a laugh, looking from Elain to Mor with a nervous sigh “I need you to winnow me to Velaris.”</p><p>            “You are <em>not</em> skipping the party” she growls, causing Cassian to raise an eyebrow. She really wants this damn party.</p><p>            “No I’m not, but I need to pick something up” Elain smiles, giving Mor a knowing nod and the older female just sighs</p><p> “you have a half hour and no more. Elain, it must now fall to you to ensure everyone is properly dressed and downstairs. Don’t worry I have already informed Rhysand that light grey is <em>not</em> his colour so you can skip him.”</p><p>            Elain nods “yes ma’am.”</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>            When Nesta went in search of someone capable of winnowing she was really looking for Helion, though Feyre was an option as well. She did not anticipate practically walking right into the shadowsinger.</p><p>            Neither of them apologizes for the near collision, they just stand in silence, observing each other quietly. Azriel is dressed, unsurprisingly, in black. It is more formal than his fighting leathers, but the way that the shadows dance around the fine materials make him look every bit as much a warrior as if he were in full battle gear. Nesta notices his eyes catching on her necklace and she raises a hand to it.</p><p>            “Mor gave it to me”</p><p>            He nods “are you aware that it is a blood ruby?”</p><p>            She smirks “Rhysand’s to be exact.” Nesta doesn’t think she has ever seen Azriel laugh, it is a lighter sound than she expected.</p><p>            “You are looking for Cassian, I presume?”</p><p>            “No, I was actually-” she pauses, not sure if she should say the truth, but aware of the clock ticking and how long it can take Helion to get ready “I was looking for someone with the ability to winnow, I need to.. collect something from Cassian and I’s place.”</p><p>            Azriel raises an eyebrow at her phrasing, but does not say anything as he holds out a hand “you may have heard that what I do is not exactly winnowing, but the result is much the same.”</p><p>            Nesta nods slowly, dropping her hand from the necklace and into his as the shadows start to move, circling around them until she can smell the fresh blooms and see the clear water of the lake in front of her.</p><p>            “I will only be a moment” she nods to Azriel “you are welcome to come in if you wish to see the house.”</p><p>            Azriel shakes his head, not telling Nesta that if Cassian smells another male in their home when they return to mate he might tear the house down to its foundation “take your time, I have not gotten to be in Càelar for a while, I would not mind experiencing the calm for a while.”</p><p>            Nest only nods before turning towards the house. Azriel is careful not to get grass stains on his black pants when he sits in front of the lake, lest Mor murder him in his sleep for showing up to her gathering in stained trousers. His shadows hum gently at the closed in silence of this place. Azriel does not like Illyria, spends as little time in this frozen, backwards territory as possible, but the sacred places… he can’t deny being able to feel them in his bones. It is therapeutic.</p><p>            Even without his shadows Azriel would have heard the rustle of Nesta’s skirt when she returned. It is soft and she is light-footed, but sneaking up on the spymaster is something that not many can accomplish. He makes to stand up but before he can he feels Nesta start to sit a few feet away from him, also careful not to stain her clothing, he notes.</p><p>            “did you get what you came for?”</p><p>            “yes” Nesta holds up her wrist where a slightly crinkled ruby red ribbon is now tied. He does not ask questions. Azriel seldom asks questions, he does not need to.</p><p>            “Shall we return, then?”</p><p>            Nesta looks over at him and he notes that Mor was a little heavy handed on the makeup. Her grey-blue eyes are smouldering so clearly through the smoky shadows and her lips are dark red, the colour of blood. Azriel cannot remember a time that he has seen Nesta wear lipstick. She didn’t need it. He tilts his head to the side, looking at the female in front of him who seems unprepared to return to the Day Court. She is beautiful, of course. That is not really a compliment, just a fact. All of these Archeron sisters are so devastatingly beautiful, but the makeup accentuates the harsher parts of Nesta, the dangerous parts. Those icy eyes and the way her mouth curls around her teeth when she smiles. Things that Cassian loves, he notes. Of course Mor was one step ahead of them all. Azriel has always preferred something… softer in his women. Cauldron knows he is hard enough for two. It occurs to him that perhaps Nesta feels the same, perhaps that is what is so alluring to her about his brother's smouldering hot temper and easy, teasing grins.</p><p>            “You do not want to return yet.” It is not a question.</p><p>            Nesta holds Azriel's gaze, noting that his eyes are the same colour as Cassian’s, but somehow entirely different. They are colder, more calculating. Cassian is all hot burning passion and warm cocky grins. More like Elain thank one who does not know them both exceptionally well might realize she notes, thinking about how those idiot human girls with ribbons in their hair used to coo about opposites attracting. She had despised them even as she was one of them, but now that she is not, she realizes that perhaps they had a point.</p><p>           And for all of the secrets that he knows, the shadowsinger would never know just how terrifyingly similar his and Nesta's though process had been in these last few minutes as they held each other's gazes.</p><p>            “I am giving you the opportunity to deliver your inner circle speech.”</p><p>            “I have no speech.”</p><p>            “Rhys and Mor certainly did” she looks back to the water, genuinely surprised by his prolonged silence “you are serious, no brotherly warning? No ‘don’t hurt him’? No ‘Nesta all you do is snap at people and go crazy and Cassian deserves better but I’ll put it aside and pretend that we are friends because he apparently loves you and I guess I can’t change that.’” Her tone is not particularly bitter, just tired. She had to fight with Rhys and Mor before any semblance of peace could even begin. She figured now was the time to go through it with Azriel.</p><p>“You have never snapped at me” Azriel says with a simple shrug.</p><p>“You have never given me a reason to” her reply is simple and Azriel grins just a little.</p><p>“Cassian has been making his own decisions for a very long time, Nesta. I do not see any reason for me to step in and treat him like a child now” she continues to stare outward “besides, he and Rhys need to be snapped at every once in a while. I have never seen you say or do anything that they did not 100% deserve.” He sighs “to be honest I have never understood why it was anyone’s business what you did after the war, or if you did or didn’t want to come to solstice or any other event, other than maybe Cassian's... though for his own reasons.”</p><p>“You have never said that before” Nesta is surprised that all along she has had a silent sort of ally in the Night Court without even knowing it.</p><p>Azriel stands, holding out his hand “no one ever asked me” the shadows engulf them instantly.</p>
<hr/><p> </p><p>            The silver box is cool in Nesta’s hands as she runs her fingers along that ruby red ribbon, smoothing out the crinkles from where it used to be tied around a teddy bear’s neck. She lets herself laugh for only a moment at the thought of wrapping it around Cassian’s neck, holding the Lord of Bloodshed in her arms at night like a child’s bear, a soft, cuddly comfort. She can’t imagine that anyone else has ever looked at him like that before, but the image makes her smile. Nesta is very aware of the ticking sun dial behind her, relentlessly reminding her that her hour is almost up. Part of her rages at following Mor’s instructions and she almost sits back down just to make herself late, a pointless act of defiance. Nesta takes a deep breath, smoothing out the pleats in her skirt, the glittering fabric is rough against her palms. She wishes the dress had pockets. She doesn’t want to walk into that intimate little room so obviously carrying a gift. That would draw attention.</p><p>            <em>Yeah, that is what will draw attention to you, not the fact that you blasted an Illyrian camp to bits, everyone knows that you’re mated to one of the most terrifying and revered warriors in history, or that your tits are basically hanging out of this damn dress that Mor tied you into.</em></p><p>            Nesta had to give it to Mor, it had been a smart trick with the necklace. She barely even noticed just how much of her skin was on display before the other woman left. It wasn’t really until Azriel’s gaze snagged just a little bit lower than the necklace that she realized how very Mor-like the top of this dress was. To the shadowsinger’s credit, it was a very brief look and he seemed more surprised than leering.</p><p>            Suitably convinced that the box will be the least of anyone’s concern, Nesta sweeps out of the room, noting that the hallways are clear of the lesser fae that usually bustle around. She makes her way to the staircase where she can hear the lilt of voices and glasses clinking. Good, they’ve started. She can just slip in and-</p><p>            The door at the bottom of the staircase that leads to Helion’s more intimate ballroom is held wide open. The second that she steps into view the room falls entirely silent. Great. Don’t these Night Court busybodies have anything better to-</p><p>            Nesta’s breath catches in her throat for only a second when her eyes find <em>his </em>instantly, something tight and familiar in her chest is pulling her forward, begging her to descend the 20 or so steps keeping her from him. It’s like a bridge, flooding pure warmth and admiration into the center of her chest. For a brief moment she swears everything feels lighter and there is no one else in the room, no one else in the universe, except for them.</p><p>            Cassian takes a deep breath in, checking carefully to ensure Nesta has not thrown up a wind shield. There is no black mist swirling around them, but the feeling is entirely the same. The feeling that there is no one and nothing else in the entire world that could possibly matter. His eyes catch hers from the bottom of the steps and he can feel Rhys tense a little as he steps away from their rather important conversation. Nothing could be as important as her, though. Cassian’s wings twitch, something inside of him screaming to close this distance with one strong flap of his wings upward. He could have her in his arms in half a second, out of this palace in 2 or three, and back to their home- he smiles at the thought of them sharing a home- within minutes. He knows that the flight is at least an hour away, but right now he truly feels that he could traverse the harsh landscape in minutes.</p><p>            That string that he has felt wrapped around his heart since the day he met her only grows tighter as she begins to descend the steps, no slack is given. Every step she takes towards him pulls that thread tighter and tighter, the bond humming in pleasure. The material of her dress glints in the low faelight and setting sun, the red meeting black as though she is being engulfed by flames. No, as though she had been burning and banished the flames down into a gentle heat lapping at her legs like a loyal pet, while the rest of her emerges from the fire as a shimmering black diamond. Cassian is not too proud to admit that his eyes snag longer than they should on her revealed breasts, pants tightening just a little at the sight of her so open and exposed before him. Perhaps if he were in his right mind, he would have the urge to cover her from the other eyes in the room, but there is no one else in the room right now. It is just she and him. Her eyes are like the ocean after a storm, peering calmly at him through deep grey shadows that pull at the tendrils of power flashing through her irises, parting to give way to brilliant blue, the kind of perfectly clear blue that would make the best forged sapphire in the kingdom weep with jealously. The closer she comes to him the more impossible it is to break his eyes from hers. The hold that her eyes have on him in this moment is stronger than any spell or daemati power. Everything inside of him is simply frozen inside of her.</p><p>            Nesta smiles ever so gently when she finally stands only one step from the bottom of the staircase. Cassian’s feet move of their own volition to meet her, offering an outstretched hand. Nesta does not accept it, smirking a little as she holds her gaze level with his, the step and her slightly heeled slippers bringing her to his height so that their eyes are perfectly level with each other. He grins at her, his body practically singing in pleasure at her insistence that they meet eye to eye, equals in every way.</p><p>            “Hi” he whispers, the word is strangled and tight, his throat thick with desire and he almost thinks that he can hear a snort of derision and a mocking comment from somewhere behind him, but that isn’t possible because, as he has already established, there is no one else in the room.</p><p>            Nesta remains silent, her full red lips parting ever so slightly as though she is about to say something. Instead she merely raises one hand to touch his cheek. That touch sets Cassian on fire so brightly he thinks he might explode. Her soft hand fits against the strong planes of his face like a missing puzzle piece, palm resting in the slight hollow under his cheek bone. She leans forward ever so slightly, forehead touching his. They stand there for a moment in complete silence. Nesta swears there is a bright light emanating around them, all that she can feel is heat. The scalding flames of desire cooled only by the soft, ever present warmth of something that she can’t quite place, a feeling that perhaps she has never really known in its truest sense. The way that Cassian closes his eyes, a single tear slipping down his face into her palm makes her think that he has never felt it either, not like this.</p><p>            They are quite the pair, the icy Queen of death who believed herself incapable of love, and the Illyrian Prince of bastards who believed himself unworthy of it.</p><p>            A voice clears loudly behind them and Cassian does not lift his forehead from hers when he growls angrily, an animalistic sound rips itself from his throat, demanding privacy in this moment.</p><p>            “This is a mating <em>celebration</em>” Mor says in a voice that he has never thought of as shrill and annoying before, but now might as well be nails on a chalkboard “meaning that there <em>are</em> other people in the room.”</p><p>            It takes every ounce of control over his own body that Cassian has mastered over half a millennium of battle training to move his head the few inches necessary to glare at his friend.</p><p>            “Don’t give me that look” she scoffs “I am the reason for this whole affair” Cassian is about to snap that he didn’t want an affair, he just wanted Nesta and an empty bedroom.</p><p>            “She is right” Nesta’s voice is quiet but full of conviction. She looks at him for a moment, casting her eyes down the final step with a raised eyebrow of expectation. Cassian extends his arm again and Nesta nods, settling her hand into the crook of his elbow and gracefully stepping down the final stair. The physical contact helps, turning the raging flames inside of them both into a low burn. Mor nods at Nesta a little in encouragement and she takes a deep breath in, lifting her other hand which holds the silver box “for you” she says quietly.</p><p>            Cassian’s golden eyes are soft and reverent as he slowly accepts the box, hand skimming over the crinkled ribbon that ties it together “is this from-”</p><p>            Nesta nods “Azriel winnowed me home to collect it”</p><p>            Cassian tenses, turning with a growl at the realization that another male touched her, because that is how winnowing works. He must have-</p><p>            Nesta squeezes Cassian’s elbow, Mor’s warning about jealously flitting through her mind “open it, Cassie” she grins around the nickname, both of them ignoring Rhys’ snigger and Elain and Feyre’s surprised, understanding gasps. Of course they remember. She took that damn bear everywhere with her for longer than was really appropriate.</p><p>            Cassian takes a deep breath in, flipping open the lid of the metal tin. His heart skips a beat. There is no other way to describe the feeling. His thoughts jumble for a moment, but it is not his rational mind that is in charge right now. Something deep inside of him tears the delicate tissue paper and grabs for the lemon cake like it might disappear in front of his eyes. He drops the box with a loud clatter against the floor in his haste to shove the entire thing into his mouth, eyes rolling back in pleasure as he slowly chews and licks the remnants of powdered sugar from his fingers. Before Mor or Rhys or even Nesta herself have the time to tell him that he is an animal, Cassian wraps his large hands around Nesta’s slim waist, pulling her tight against him “no going back now, sweetheart.”</p><p>            Nesta hums gently, letting her body press against his “was there ever really a chance of that for either of us?”</p><p>            Gods damn the rest of the room, Mor can tease him for a century if she wants, he has to kiss her right now. Cassian lifts her chin with his hand, capturing her lips in his gently. The kiss lasts only a moment before he grins, mouth travelling down her neck. They both <em>feel</em> a laugh rumble down the bond as he breathes in her skin and she exposes her throat to him.</p><p>           Cassian pulls back when his lips meet hard metal “where did you get this” his eyes widen as he stares at her necklace, something clouding his eyes as he looks to Elain. <em>How did she know?</em></p><p>           “Mor gave it to me” Nesta says gently “it’s Rhysand’s blood ruby” she smirks a little and Feyre lets out a cackle completely unbecoming of a High Lady. Helion’s laughter is even less restrained. “Is something wrong?” his eyes are still clouded, finger now slowly tracing the gentle curves of the metal that crosses over the ruby. Should she not have mentioned Rhys? She knows about the jealousy thing, but really if he was jealous that she’s wearing a symbol of there being a price on the High Lord’s head then that might be just a little unreasonable-</p><p>           “No” Cassian shakes his head “no” he repeats on a soft whisper “everything is so completely and entirely <em>right</em>.” Now it is Nesta’s turn to look confused. Cassian pauses for a moment, seeming to shuffle through a few thoughts in his mind “I have been studying how to do this and I want to get it right.”</p><p>           “What are you talking about?”</p><p>           “I know that things are different for humans and I want to give you what you always expected so I read some of those human romance novels you love so much, and I had a very different plan for this, but-” he pauses, casting his gaze to Elain “someone convinced me that this was the right time.” Nesta’s eyes widen a little as the pieces start to fall into place, her suspicions are confirmed when Cassian reaches for a velvet box in his pocket, and then the Illyrian General does something that no one, save for Elain, was expecting.</p><p>           The feared Lord of Bloodshed who has razed armies to the ground and fought in 2 wars, the General who commanded legions, the male about to be crowned King of a sovereign people within the Night Court, lowers himself carefully onto one knee in front of her like she is a Queen. “When fae get on their knees in front of someone, it is typically a better, someone they are swearing fealty to. I have been informed that human men use this gesture for something different entirely. I am doing both. I am on my knees before you, Nesta Archeron because I think that everyone here knows from the second I set eyes on you that is always how it was meant to be. I swear my loyalty to you in every way that is possible. I swear my sword to you as a Queen in your own right, and I swear my life to you as the female that I love above any other in this or the next world. The mother has seen fit that we are equals to be mated, but I want more than that. You are more than that to me, Nesta.” Finally Cassian opens the box and Nesta’s throat goes entirely dry.</p><p>           A giant ruby ring stares back at her, large and oval in shape with a simple silver band that attaches to the sides of the ruby in a half diamond shape on either side, meeting in the back in a full diamond that is exactly reminiscent of the crossing symbols on the necklace that Mor gave her. Tiny crystals surround the large red center stone in an oval shape with gentle lines on either side. She knows that the symbols have to mean something just as with the necklace.</p><p>           “this was my mother’s” Cassian’s voice is quiet “it’s the only thing that I’ve ever truly had to remember her with. She gave it to me before I was sent to windhaven, and told me to always hold it close to my heart. I think she knew what they would do to her, knew that she would never see me again. I can think of no possible way to keep this closer to my heart than if you would agree to wear it.” Cassian pauses for a moment, allowing everything he has said to sink in. Nesta’s eyes leave the ring, carefully finding his again. “Will you marry me, Nesta?”</p><p>           Swallowing is an effort, somehow all of the moisture in her throat has found its way to her eyes as she looks down. She wants to find perfect words like he did, she wants to tell him that he is everything she has been looking for, everything that she never dared even hope for as a human or a fae. She wants to tell him all of that, but her throat will not open so she simply sinks herself to her knees in front of him, settles her forehead against his once again and nods her head up and down over and over and over again.</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*fans self* that was a big one, let me know what you think! (PS- we will be returning to the explenations for those Illyrian symbols on the jewelry in the chapter after next so just file that one away ;)</p><p>In case anyone is interested, I have been re-reading the whole ACOTAR series, currently on ACOWAR, and it's causing me to absolutely go OFF on tumblr so anyone who is interested in the rambling of an insane Nesta Archeron stan feel free to get in touch via tumblr!</p><p>My URL is: UnhealthyKlarolineObsession</p><p>the blog is 99% Nessian now, but 'klaroline' was my main ship when I first made this tumblr years ago, you know back when I was a teenager and just obsessively in love with this ship consisting of a strong willed badass woman with a 'spoiled' background being turned into an immortal being against her will but tying to save the people she cares about as she figures out what to do with this new immortal life all the while being pursued by one of the most powerful men in the universe who has a tragic backstory, calls himself a bastard, has killed thousands but is soft as hell with his love interest and calls her sweetheart and just want to be there for her dammit except that they both keep fucking up and saying stupid shit to each other that they don't mean.</p><p>Thank goodness I've progressed beyond such youthful obsession....</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0018"><h2>18. Symbols</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>just me, insufferably waiting through every tiny tidbit of the actual ACOSF that we get by continuing to post my own version of events. Enjoy...</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p>
  <strong>Chapter 17</strong>
</p><p>            “Do we really have to stay here?” Cassian shifts his hand, which hasn’t left Nesta’s waist since she let him put that ring on her finger “can’t we just go home?” his eyes are hot as they roam over her body, thumb caressing the dip of her spine.</p><p>            Nesta smiles the tiniest bit “how am <em>I</em> the one convincing <em>you</em> to stay at a party?”</p><p>            “You aren’t allowed to leave yet” Rhys claps his brother on the shoulder “I know that once I let you go, I won’t see you for <em>weeks</em>, and unfortunately we still have much to discuss.”</p><p>            Cassian nods his head hard “not that long, brother” his hand continues running up and down Nesta’s bare back “we are both aware, as you and feyre were, that the timing will not allow for us to be completely alone as long as we would like.”</p><p>            Nesta nods her head in agreement “I shall let you two discuss your business, I would like to speak with my sisters anyway”</p><p>            “Actually, I would rather you stay” Rhys tries to keep the command out of his voice “given this evening’s… events” his gaze flicks down to Nesta’s finger briefly “it would seem that I’ll have to have a second crown forged.”</p><p>            Nesta inclines her head “I do not want a crown.”</p><p>            Cassian scoffs “that makes two of us”</p><p>            “I’m serious” Nesta’s voice is firm “I am not Illyrian. The entire point of giving Cassian this power is to allow for a sovereign Illyria under the banner of the Night Court. The Illyrian’s would not wish to be ruled by a high fae.”</p><p>            “Simply understanding that makes you more Illyrian than you will ever know” Rhys smirks.</p><p>            “I don’t think-”</p><p>            “Illyrians respect the mating bond as all fae do, they will not object. Not to mention with you being the High Lady’s sister it is just another way to ensure that even in sovereignty Illyria is still connected to the Night Court.”</p><p>            “More than that, however” Cassian breaks in “they respect strength, and you are one of the strongest females in Prythian.”</p><p>            Nesta shakes her head “I still do not think it is a good idea.”</p><p>            Cassian reaches for Nesta’s hand, all but ignoring Rhysand’s presence “how are we to forge an Illyria where males and females are equal if we begin by presenting an image of a subjugated wife?”</p><p>            Nesta scoffs “I am subjugated to no one”</p><p>            “I know that” Cassian smirks “but that is not how they will see it. Those who seek to uphold the old ways will cry hypocrisy. They will-”</p><p>            “and what of those who are rebelling against Rhysand’s rule simply because he is only half Illyrian? I am not Illyrian at all; I wasn’t even born fae. That camp Lord said I was a witch.”</p><p>            “Nesta, sweetheart, I-”</p><p>            “must we decide this tonight? I really do not want to argue with you on this of all days”</p><p>            “She might have a point” Rhys breaks in “I originally was planning to schedule a meeting with the Lords of the twelve tribes of Illyria in 2 weeks where Cass, Feyre and I could inform them of the new order. Would you attend this meeting with us, Nesta? Decisions about a crown can be made after that, but I think it is important to present strong female leaders at the top of the Night Court hierarchy either way.”</p><p>            Nesta nods contemplatively “the Lords, they will know upon entering the room that Cassian and I are mated, yes?”</p><p>            “If we ever actually get to <em>be</em> mated” Cassian grumbles, raising his hands in surrender when Nesta elbows him.</p><p>            “They will. I imagine many have already heard.” Rhys confirms.</p><p>            “Alright” Nesta nods “they know your opinion of females; they know that the Night Court has a High Lady. Once they have heard they will assume that it is your plan for me to rule beside Cassian. If there are no objections on that front from the Lords then I will accept, but if it is an area of dissent then I will not accept.”</p><p>            Cassian stiffens “Nesta you know that they are going to complain-”</p><p>            “These are my terms” her voice does not leave any room for questions “I will not be the reason why Illyria cannot be united peacefully underneath a rightful king who will make it a better place for everyone.”</p><p>            Cassian opens his mouth to retort, but Rhysand raises a hand to silence them both “I agree with Nesta. If you hold to your word and accept a crown if there are no objections from the Lords, then I will stick to my word and not make you accept one if it is an area of contention. Your terms are accepted, sister.” Nesta snorts a little at the endearment but nods “now we must discuss the Ironcrest camp. However, Feyre has been yelling at me down the bond for the past 5 minutes to stop taking up all of your time, so perhaps you should go speak with her and Elain, and Cassian can fill you in on the plan… later.”</p><p>            “I wasn’t yelling” Feyre’s indignant voice sounds above the light music in the room and all 4 of them laugh. Nesta smiles as she makes her way across the room to her sisters. She seems to be doing that a lot lately… smiling. It is still foreign, but in a way that she thinks she might used to.</p><p>            “What the hell, Rhys?” Cassian glares at his brother “why did you accept those terms? I could have convinced her-”</p><p>            “No one has ever convinced an Archeron of anything, brother, and putting a ring on her finger will not change that. Trust me.” He pauses, grinning “I have done nothing but set a trap that we will spring in a fortnight.”</p><p>            “Excuse me?”</p><p>            “I am giving you 2 weeks off for your mating. I will travel to Ironcrest and install Kallon and Terria as Lord and Lady of the camp. I will then go to the remaining 11 camps and elevate each Lord’s wife to the status of Lady and invite all of them to our meeting.”</p><p>            Cassian’s eyes widen “you know that there will be Lord’s who do not agree to that.”</p><p>            Rhys smirks “any Lord who disagrees will be stripped of his title and his wife made Lady in her own right.”</p><p>            “Are all of the Lord’s even married?”</p><p>            “All but one” Rhys confirms “and he has a daughter.”</p><p>            “You cannot do this on your own Rhys, what if there is a rebellion?”</p><p>            “You will leave this matter to Azriel and myself.” Rhys’ voice is thick with the command.</p><p>            “I thought I was supposed to be a King now? Doesn’t that mean I can make my own decisions regarding what to do?”</p><p>            Rhys laughs “you are not a King yet, brother. And I am still High Lord.”</p><p>            “Insufferable prick” Cassian snorts</p><p>            “You will leave the first changes to Azriel and I. You will let us be the villains in the eyes of those who might oppose this change. I will tell them that if they have a problem, they may take it up with their new King at our meeting in 2 weeks. Then when you arrive at the meeting with a Queen who has decimated all of her enemies with terrifying precision by your side…”</p><p>            “They won’t dare have anything to say” Cassian is annoyed that Rhys is right, the best thing that he can do for the next 2 weeks is nothing. Well, nothing in regard to his official position.</p><p>            “See this as the gift that it is brother. You have been doing the heavy lifting to avoid a civil war with Illyria. Mating is something that only happens once, enjoy it.”</p><p>            “Oh, I plan to” Cassian smirks, eyes trailing across the room, finding Nesta easily. “When am I allowed to leave, by the way?”</p><p>            Rhys barks out a laugh “even I would never give someone permission to leave one of Mor’s parties. You’ll have to take that up with her.”</p><p>            “what are you boys saying about me?” Mor arrives by their side in an instant.</p><p>            “Cassian would like to leave, and I informed him that this is not my party.”</p><p>            Mor glares “you do realize that this is the <em>Night</em> Court, right Cass?”</p><p>            “You do realize that every muscle in my body is actively fighting the urge to throw my mate over my shoulder and fly her as far away from Helion’s wandering gaze as possible, right Mor?”</p><p>            “You are 536 years old, control yourself.” Mor sniffs, flipping her hair over her shoulder.</p><p>            “How did you know about the symbols to set that necklace in?” Cassian shifts topics abruptly.</p><p>            “I didn’t” Mor shrugs “Azriel drew the symbols for me, I just gave them to the jeweler”</p><p>            Right. Of course, Az would know the traditional symbols. That explained the addition. “Thank you Mor, for putting in the effort to know Nesta better, and for… all of this.”</p><p>            “You are welcome” she smiles brightly “I have not seen you so happy in all my life, and I am glad that I was able to be a part of that rather than taking away from it.” Cassian hugs his friend quickly and she smiles.</p><p>A moment of contented silence follows and then a huff takes over their corner of the room “fine” Mor sighs out exasperatedly “you may leave now.”</p><hr/><p>            “Pardon the interruption, ladies” Cassian fixes a joking grin on his face as he approaches the 3 sisters “but I was hoping to convince the eldest Archeron to retire for the evening” his gaze is hot on Nesta’s, hand once again finding her bare back.</p><p>            Feyre smirks a little “Oh of course, my King. Far be it from me to be stealing my sister’s time away from you”</p><p>            Nesta scoffs as Cassian laughs “all joking aside, Nesta, are you ready to go home?”</p><p>            <em>Home </em>something about the word causes Nesta’s heart to beat just a little faster as she nods carefully in the affirmative.</p><p>            “Might we impress upon the High Lady to winnow-”</p><p>            “I’d rather fly” Cassian raises an eyebrow in surprise and then grins excitedly. “Just let me say goodbye to Helion” Cassian growls as his eyes meet the High Lord’s, who begins to walk over at hearing his name spoken “control whatever that is” Nesta scoffs at her mate “we owe him a lot.”</p><p>            “Do I hear debts of gratitude being discussed?” Helion appears between the pair “I do have a few ideas, but I’ll save them for your next visit” he winks not at Nesta but at Cassian.</p><p>            Nesta rolls her eyes “we will be returning home now, I just wanted to thank you before we left, for well… everything, really.”</p><p>            Helion smiles broadly, the light glinting off of the molten gold in his eyes “the pleasure was all mine, I assure you Miss Archeron.” He lifts her hand to his mouth, sending a teasing grin to Cassian whose entire body is taught with the effort of fighting the urge to launch himself at the High Lord of Day “but this is not a goodbye my dear. I understand that you will be busy for a few weeks, but of course you must return here often. I will so miss having anyone around who can challenge me” Helion shoots a pointed look at the number of centuries old Illyrian babies in the room.</p><p>            “I promise” Nesta smiles softly “Illyria is not so far from here, I imagine there will be many times I will need a break.” She looks at the High Lord fondly, thinking of the first time she set eyes on him “we are an odd pair of friends, wouldn’t you say, Helion Spellcleaver?”</p><p>            The High Lord tips back his head to laugh “no more odd than the 3 human born girls in this room who possess fae mates”</p><p>            “I suppose you are correct” Cassian clears his throat and Nesta rolls her eyes.</p><p>            “Go, go. I understand, but you will both be back soon, of that I am sure” they both nod respectfully and turn to leave “Oh and commander” Cassian turns “once all of this ridiculous jealousy wares off let me know, I do so think that the three of us could have <em>such fun</em> together.”</p><p>            Nesta grips Cassian’s arm tightly, practically shoving him through the door before he can do something stupid.</p><p>          </p><hr/><p>            “I’m sorry. I’ll get better at controlling this” Cassian sighs once they step into the crisp air. He gently folds Nesta’s body into his own, lifting her up into his arms as he launches for the sky. “Say something to take my mind off of it, anything. Yell at me if you want, I just need something to stop me from turning around and picking an idiotic fight”</p><p>            Nesta looks up at her mate, knowing that she would never admit out loud that she sort of likes the jealousy, the possessiveness. She is his and he is hers.</p><p>            “What do the symbols on the ring and necklace mean?” Cassian was not expecting that to be the words that come out of her mouth, but it is clever. His chest tightens and hums in pleasure at the sight and thought of his ring wrapped around her delicate finger.</p><p>            “They are Illyrian runes, as I’m sure Mor told you. Each line and twist means something different, some of them are… adapted to work on jewelry so they are not exact replicas, but any Illyrian would know from looking which symbol it represents.”</p><p>            “Are they battle runes? Like the ones that you have…” Nesta’s voice trails off as she runs her finger over the silk of his shirt, tracing the exact spot where she knows these symbols swirl around his chest.</p><p>            “No, they are more… personal than that.” He pauses, managing to shift her a little so that the hand that grips her waist can also run along the ring “this one that sort of looks like a line with a V through it means divine protection and sanctuary. It is given to females to represent that a male has found the sanctuary for his warrior heart. It means that their male will protect them against all things mundane and divine, the mother or the cauldron itself.” He pauses “perhaps that is ironic in our circumstances considering I could not-”</p><p>            “you did not fail me, Cassian.” Her words are hard and earnest “we have both made mistakes, but I remember that day. You tried, you fought with every breath in your body even as you thought you were dying to save me from that cauldron.” She pauses “you took me to Helion, <em>you</em> did. Even when Feyre ordered something else, you protected me from what the cauldron did to me in the best way you could, and we are all the better for it, I imagine I am one of the only females wearing this symbol who can say that she and her mate actually fought against the cauldron. Together.” Cassian swallows hard and she can see that he is still not entirely convinced “tell me about the other symbols.”</p><p>            He looks down, avoiding the ring “this sideways triangle” he points to 2 delicately connected lines that splay out in a V shape around the large ruby of her necklace “is called Kaunaz. It means fire and knowledge. It is meant to represent the passions of the heart and the connection of the minds becoming one in a true match of equals. It is the most common mating symbol” Nesta smiles at that, thinking of the flame-painted drawer in their old shack in the human lands.</p><p>            <em>Fire, he reminded her of fire made flesh</em></p><p>            “Azriel added this one” Cassian grins a little, running his thumb over the elevated metal that almost looks like a tilted Z running across one side of the jewel “it isn’t traditionally given to females, but when Mor asked him, he must have known. Eihwaz.” His voice is reverent around the syllables.</p><p>            “What does it mean?” she presses</p><p>            “This one actually <em>is</em> a battle symbol. A literal transition would say that it is to provide endurance and protection on the battlefield since it represents the connection between life and death. I can only assume that Az meant it as a nod to all we have endured and overcome to be in each other’s protection. Life and death itself, a mortal woman and a fae male finding each other across walls and worlds-”</p><p>            “Old world come to new” Nesta whispers, finally seeing the meaning in Elain’s last prediction. Cassian only nods, remembering the words that sent him to retrieve her ring. It is not a destruction or abandonment of either of their worlds that brought them together, but an acceptance of each other that made something new entirely. An Illyrian warrior on his knees with a human proposal, and a near impossibly young mortal woman-turned immortal female wearing the ancient runes of a civilization that existed long before them both.</p><p>“What is this one?” she asks, turning the band of her ring over to display the one symbol that never fails to make Cassian’s heart clench. The 2 half diamonds coming out of the side of a full diamond, holding the ring together.</p><p>            “that” his voice is quiet, reverent “is Inguz. You can see the similarities to Kaunez if you look, the two half diamonds representing what I said before, but this one is stronger because in the center the two halves come together. It… this is the true love rune. It represents harmony, balance, and” he clears his throat “Illyrians believe that having this band on a marriage ring represents a love match instead of a political or survival based one, which is not uncommon in Illyria. Because of that it is also seen as a symbol that many believe that it makes the mother smile upon the couple and bless them with greater fertility than most fae” Nesta’s eyes widen a little “it’s just a superstition of course, but if you don’t care for the meaning I can always have the jewel put in a different-”</p><p>            “You think that I would have a problem with wearing a symbol that we are together because we love each other?”</p><p>            “You will see upon spending more time in Illyria, everyone will recognize that symbol, anyone who meets you will know-”</p><p>            “Good” Nesta leans her head into his chest “I want them to know, Cassian.” She pauses, looking up to meet his eyes “I want you to wear one too” her nod is resolute “I do not care if it is not typical in Illyrian culture for a male to be ‘marked'. I… I want everyone to know that you are mine and I am yours and it is not only because of a mating bond.”</p><p>            Cassian’s eyes soften as he stares down at her. His heart swells so large he is afraid it might burst out of his chest. She wants him, and she wants others to know that he is hers. She is not ashamed of him or trying to hide anything. She does not care that he is a low born bastard. She wants to mark him publicly with a symbol of love and she wants everyone to see it. See it and know that he is hers and she is his. There is not enough self control training in the world that could stop him from leaning down and capturing her lips in his at this moment. Her lips mold so softly and perfectly into his, like she was made for him. That pull inside of his chest is a beacon of pure light, desperate to be completely inside of her, reminding him that he was made for her as well. He lived 500 years without knowing that the entire purpose for his existence, the only reason he was ever born and made into what he is had yet to even be born-</p><p>           “Cassian” Nesta shrieks, breaking their kiss as a small bird nearly knocks into them “keep your eyes on what mattes!”</p><p>           "In that case” Cassian smirks, turning his gaze entirely down onto her.</p><p>            “I’m serious!”</p><p>            “So am I.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>The symbols that Cassian is talking about are real, I based them off of ancient viking symbols for the literal meanings, but of course added a few things in for Illyrian lore.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0019"><h2>19. A Broken, Painful Reality</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning- this chapter is LONG, and emotional. I just felt like as much fun as mating sex is, these 2 still had some things to really hash out and I don't want them moving into the future with unanswered questions. I hope you all enjoy my version of what I think is a very necessary conversation between Nesta and Cassian.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 18</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>            Cassian wakes up before Nesta does, a smile pulling at his lips as he rubs one calloused thumb down the soft exposed skin of her hip, which is pressed tightly against him. The sun is just rising on the horizon, filtering in through the high window above them, pulling at the gold in Nesta’s hair, making it nearly the exact colour of the cool silk sheets beneath them. He lets his face fall back against the pillow, breathing in the scent of her hair. He has always loved how Nesta smells. It isn’t a typical feminine scent, like the way that Elain manages to carry roses and lavender in her very essence. No, as in all things Nesta is entirely her own. Nesta smelled like the sea right before a storm. Fresh and crisp and almost smoky in the most intoxicating way.</p><p>This moment would be completely perfect if the sensation in his right arm wasn’t entirely cut off by the weight of Nesta’s head against his forearm. It didn’t really matter, Nesta could be slowly hacking away at that arm with a knife and he would still die before he moved a muscle. Only a few months ago this image seemed so entirely out of his grasp, so painfully unattainable.</p><p>            Cassian looses a breath when Nesta shifts beside him. She rolls her head a little further up his arm, tucking herself on top of the crook where his bicep meets his shoulder as she slowly opens her eyes to find him already staring at her, silver meeting gold. Her eyes do look silver to him in this moment, bleary with sleep and rimmed with smoke that sharpens the usual blue-grey.</p><p>            “So, is this eternity then?” she asks, voice husky with sleep, thinking for the first time since being forced into the cauldron that maybe a fae life really was the gift that Hybern taunted them all that it was.</p><p>            “I cannot say that I’ve ever felt quite like this when waking up any day of the past 536 years.”</p><p>            “Liar” Nesta snorts, pulling herself up onto her elbows, smirking a little at the way Cassian’s eyes fall immediately to her peaked breasts as the sheet falls away. She sighs at the memory of exactly how much he seemed to enjoy them last night.</p><p>            “I’m not lying” Cassian turns onto his side, muscles tensing to hold himself up as he hovers above her. “Nothing could make this moment more perfect” he grins, pressing an uncharacteristically gentle kiss to the tip of her nose.</p><p>            “Nothing?” Nesta raises an eyebrow, reaching a single slim hand up to trail down his bare chest, feeling her way past his abdominal muscles until she is just reaching that perfectly chiseled V that will lead her to-</p><p>            Cassian groans as Nesta’s hand curls around his length. “I had a thought about this exact scenario once” he sighs, turning onto his back and pulling Nesta with him so that she is flush against his chest, not even a stich of silk fabric separating the various places where skin meets skin “you were digging that hand hard into my leathers, standing in front of a fire that made you glow like a goddess” he groans as Nesta smiles sweetly, continuing to move her hand up and down in such a wickedly slow rhythm.</p><p>            “hmm, you don’t have to remind me what happened next” she grins, moving her knee up quickly, latching it around the other side of his body and pressing either side of him between her thighs as she smirks.</p><p>            Cassian skims his hands over her waist, circling the newly returned curves, appreciating the careful and generous flare of her hips before settling on the rounded perfection of her bottom that rests right above where he wants it. He lifts her with ease, pulling her back a few inches before pausing, holding her above his body “wicked female” he grins “what ever would you have done if there had been lasting damage where you landed that knee” he smirks, starting to lower her against the clear evidence that no damage had been done.</p><p>            Nesta reaches back, grabbing his hands and leading them farther upwards where his calloused palms can circle the sensitive tips of her breasts, she simultaneously holds herself tight above him with her thighs, refusing to fully let him enter her just yet “you have other options” she slowly lowers herself down, hands covering his “perhaps if I’d done my job better there would finally be a proper use for that mouth of yours”</p><p>            Cassian grins devilishly, quickly sitting upward so that he fully seats himself inside of her, moving his hips carefully as he slowly runs his tongue across her hardened nipples, speaking cheekily between careful licks and nips “I think you’ll find, sweetheart, that it’s really best when everything works in tandem.”</p><p>            “You think far too highly of yourself” Nesta’s jab is undermined by the high-pitched moan and gasping breath that escapes without her permission as Cassian lets his other hand find its way back to that perfect spot at the top of her thighs.</p><p>            “What was that, sweetheart?” Cassian breathes against her skin as his finger moves in quick, perfect circles around that sensitive spot. Nesta arches her back to sink farther onto him, moving up and down until the pressure of his fingers and rapid work of his mouth in their various places on her body is simply too much.</p><p>Her head falls back, rolling in perfect extasy and Cassian smiles broadly, using this moment as the perfect opportunity to flip their positions, supporting himself on his forearms as he presses closer and further into her.</p><p>Nesta lets her hand skim along his neck carefully, and he nearly loses himself in the pure gentleness of that gesture, the pulling of his head to hers so that their foreheads meet as they did the night before when she accepted him as her mate in front of the mother and everyone. It is a final look into those silver-lined eyes and a careful pull of Nesta’s left leg as it snakes around his right thigh that finally makes Cassian let himself go. They stay in that position, bodies wrapped around each other, foreheads pressed together, the feeling of their mutual release causing the bond to practically sing between them. Nothing could be more right that this moment.</p><p>“When did you know?” Nesta lets Cassian fall back against the sheets before she asks the question that she has been afraid to voice for months now.</p><p>To his credit, Cassian does not pretend that he does not know exactly what she is asking. “You felt the bond snap at the same time I did, sweetheart”</p><p>“But you knew before that, didn’t you? It’s why you were so… invested, no matter how many times I pushed you away.”</p><p>Cassian lets out a low laugh “no, the possibility of a mating bond is not why I became <em>invested</em>.” Nesta looks at her mate, still waiting for him to answer the original question. “I…” he pauses, trying to find the right words “I suspected even before you were fae, you drove me nuts from the first time I met you and I couldn’t stay away, but I thought it might just be the regular kind of attraction. I’ve always been drawn to women who could kick my ass” Nesta snorts “either way, I felt <em>something</em>, but I wasn’t sure, and you were human and hated everything fae, so what did it even matter?” He grins, tugging on a piece of her hair teasingly. “After you had been made and Lucien felt the bond immediately… a part of me thought that I had been making it up so that there would be a reason why I couldn’t stay away from you no matter how often you begged me to.”</p><p>“I think I’ve always known” Nesta admits quietly, for the first time to anyone, including herself. “Well not <em>always</em>, but… I couldn’t deny it, that incessant pull. I thought that it was some kind of manipulative faerie magic, some kind of mind control like what Rhys and Feyre can do. Once someone explained to me what mates were and I heard the story about Rhys and Feyre… it just sort of <em>clicked</em>. That’s why I never wanted to see you in those months that Feyre was at the Spring Court. It’s why I pushed you away, I was… afraid that you would realize what was happening and…”</p><p>Cassian sits up on his elbows “and do what?”</p><p>“I didn’t want to belong to anyone” she whispers “I saw the way that red headed male looked at Elain, it was like he owned her in some way. Rhysand said that they would keep him away, but then once he was here… it was obvious that everyone thought it was the right thing for her to see him, be with him.” Nesta shakes her head “that happened and Lucien was an enemy, someone who sold us all out along with Tamlin. You are his brother, and he already hated me, I didn’t see myself being given the same space to figure this new life out free of that… possessiveness, if you knew. I didn’t want you to start looking at me like that, for people to start telling me that I didn’t have a choice in the matter or-” she pauses, looking down.</p><p>“You will always have a choice, Nesta.”</p><p>“I know that now, but…” she pauses again, looking for the right words. Cassian fixes his hazel eyes on her entirely “you just kept coming up to the house and it already felt like somehow Feyre was pushing and pushing us together, like she could feel it and was trying to use it to <em>fix</em> me in some way. ‘Why won’t you train with Cassian, Nesta?’ ‘We’re flying somewhere, you’ll go with Cassian, Nesta’. It was like she was could sense it and was trying to push us together so that you would rub off on me or something. I don’t think she meant to, but… I was afraid of what everyone would do if they found out. Then the war came, and it felt like the opposite, like all of a sudden everyone was trying to keep you away from me, so I didn’t say anything because I knew they were right.”</p><p>“Right about what?”</p><p>“That I wasn’t good for you.”</p><p>Cassian sighs, sitting up “the unfortunate thing that we are both going to have to deal with is that my family are a bunch of overprotective, busybody pricks. Every last one of them. There is not a single one of us who has managed to maintain a functional relationship in a half a millennium without a magical bond, so perhaps they are just really not the people whose actions you should be reading into regarding anything to do with us” Nesta laughs a little at that.</p><p>“As for Feyre” he sighs “she knew something was going on, she did the same thing to me. Constantly asking me about you, it’s probably why she wanted to send you to the mountains with me. Rhys helped her heal, she was just trying to help you experience the same thing.”</p><p>Nesta scoffs, knowing that she doesn’t have to articulate yet again that she is not nor will she ever be like Feyre, and Cassian would never want her to be. “You never answered my question”</p><p>“I don’t know” he admits slowly “there are so many moments that I can pinpoint, times when I could just… feel what you were feeling. I can’t separate it out in my mind though, what could have been the bond or what was just me falling in love with you.”</p><p>“Is there a difference?”</p><p>“Yes” he responds immediately “the bond connects us, we had no control over it, but I <em>chose</em> to love you, and I hope, that you chose to love me.”</p><p>Nesta nods her head, smiling a little, “tell me about all of the times that you hated me.” Nesta smirks, leaning her body onto his “love and adoration are so boring. Tell me about every time that I made you want to rip your hair out… tell me why you kept coming back?”</p><p>Cassian grins “there are no shortage of those moments, sweetheart.”</p><p>Nesta crinkles her nose up. “Aren’t you supposed to tell me that you have never hated me? Not for a second, you always knew that we were destined to be together-”</p><p>“Those are not mutually exclusive things” he smirks “we could start with that knee to the groin. That one certainly made me not want to come back for some time.”</p><p>“You can go deeper than that” Nesta practically purrs.</p><p>“Come on Nes” he sighs “I’ve already apologized for how I behaved after the war-”</p><p>“But you never explained it, or… I never listened as you did. I want to know; we are going to have to talk about all of this eventually. Might as well get it over with now”</p><p>“There is a reason that I have never taken lovers for longer than a few months” Cassian starts, pulling Nesta’s back against his chest, running his hand carefully through her hair. If they are going to have this conversation, then he needs to be able to feel her and know that she hasn’t run away. “It does not matter how many times I live through a war; it is horrible. My entire existence is to be prepared for the inevitability of battle, but I always knew that love wasn’t a good idea. Anyone or anything that might stop me from doing what I had to do-”</p><p>“Is self-sacrifice an Illyrian tradition?” Nesta scoffs.</p><p>“Yes” Cassian’s voice is hard “we are warriors above everything else. War is awful, and the only thing that can make it worse is to be worrying about another person. I saw it in Rhys when Feyre was at the Spring Court. He was unfocused, panicked, he let himself get out of shape.” Cassian shakes his head “I used to think that having another person to consider would be the worst possible way to go into a war, but I was wrong” Cassian tangles his fingers in Nesta’s hair, reminding himself that it is alright. They got through the war, and everything that followed. “The worst thing was caring for someone who was not mine. I don’t mean that in a possessive sense, but… you were not mine to care for, worry about, protect. It was torture, constantly flying into some new terror realizing that I could be swept off of this earth with nothing but unanswered questions, nothing but could have beens. If Feyre or Rhys had died it would have been unfathomable for the other one, but you… I had no right to feel as I did, no right to worry as I did. That is why I was so angry when you called me from the sky. It was the highest form of cowardice for me to go to you, to abandon my legions.”</p><p>“Would you say the same if Feyre had called for Rhysand down the bond and he left to find her?”</p><p>“Never” Cassian shakes his head “but that is what I mean, you were not mine and I was not yours. To abandon everything for your mate or wife is not dishonorable, but I left my position, allowed myself to be distracted, was pulled in two directions at every turn for a female who, if you looked at it from the outside, did not care if I lived or died.”</p><p>“who cares about the outside” Nesta scoffs “you… you never truly believed that, did you?”</p><p>“No” Cassian shakes his head, and he does not need to assure her further. From the moment they met Cassian had been annoyingly skilled at seeing past her walls.</p><p>“I did not think that I could give you anything during the war” Nesta admits “Mor made it seem, after that battle in Adriata, and then later in the camps… I realized while you were away, realized that you might not come back and I wanted to talk to you about… anyway, Mor was trying to protect you, and it was clear that the best way to protect you, was for me to go away.”</p><p>“Mor was probably right, though not for the reasons you think. She has a gift for seeing to the heart of a matter, the truth of it. She knew that the questions were weighing on me, that it was more impossible not to seek answers with every passing day. I imagine that she feared if we were together too often I would do something stupid like tell you that I was in love with you and you would reject my sorry ass and I would jump into a battle like a male with nothing to lose. She was so terrified of exactly that happening if Azriel were ever to tell her how he felt, to confront her with it… she was trying to protect me from exactly what she will one day have to do to Azriel.”</p><p>“That day in the camp, after I wrapped your wrist…. I was going to tell you; I was about to ask if there was somewhere that we could go to be alone. I knew that you were exhausted, and I was going to tell you that I’d felt it, when you walked in my wrist throbbed like the pain was my own and I knew… I was going to tell you.”</p><p>“Why didn’t you?”</p><p>“Because then Mor came in, and you dropped my hand like it was burning your skin.”</p><p>“I don’t have a good answer for why I did that, Nesta. I wish that I had a simple, well thought out answer to give you, a clear reason. I wish that I remembered the moment with the clarity that you do, but I don’t. I remember you wrapping my wrist, I remember feeling like we were the only people in the entire camp despite Feyre and Rhys sitting 3 feet away, but… I don’t really remember what happened after that. I remember Mor coming in and you leaving. I suppose that I never connected the dots.”</p><p>“For a brilliant military strategist, you can really be quite dense”</p><p>Cassian looses a breath “it is much harder to calculate the moves and plans of those closest to you. An enemy is easy, because I know what they want. I never… it feels stupid to say, but I never even considered that you might think Mor and I had some sort of-”</p><p>“What about… after?” Nesta cuts him off “if it wasn’t because of Mor then why did you <em>truly</em> not come to see me? To speak with me?”</p><p>“You could have come to see me” Cassian counters</p><p>“I have already told you why I didn’t”</p><p>“As I have told you”</p><p>“The difference is that I don’t believe you. I don’t believe that you thought I didn’t want to see you.” Nesta looks at him and Cassian sighs.</p><p>“I couldn’t” he closes his eyes, shaking against her “I knew that if I came to you, if you let me in, or if you kicked me out… I wouldn’t be able to leave again. I would have stayed with you. I wouldn’t be able to do everything that I had to do. I wouldn’t have gone to the camps and spoken to families and done the things that needed to be done. I would’ve gotten lost in you, and I had a duty to the Illyrians, to the people who died in droves while me and everyone that I love, somehow survived.”</p><p>“They deserve someone like you” Nesta is tense “the Illyrians, I mean. You truly care for them. You don’t think of them as backwards or wrong, you don’t look down on them like Rhysand does.”</p><p>“I think that what they do, how they live and cling to archaic customs is wrong.”</p><p>“But you care for them still, you see the good in them, the parts of Illyria that are vibrant and full of culture. You aren’t ashamed to be one of them.”</p><p>“No” Casian shakes his head “I am proud of my heritage. Illyria is a wonderful place if you get to know it, truly know it. It can be cold and harsh and unforgiving, but… it is also beautiful. There is art and language and music that most of the world will never know about, aspects of our culture that remain our own.”</p><p>“That is why I chose to love you” she whispers “you have this way of seeing the world, of seeing people that just… it’s beautiful and rich and forgiving. It’s like you can see past the surface, and you want to. You genuinely want to understand people.”</p><p>Cassian kisses her head “I have found in my many years of life that the best people often put up walls, it’s like the universe declared that you have to put in the work to get to know such a person. And I don’t just mean you, my love. You can see it everywhere and it looks different for everyone. Even Mor, that smiling loving façade is just to hide, to stop people from seeing everything inside of her that is fierce and brilliant. No one is what they seem on the surface.”</p><p>“You are going to make a wonderful King”</p><p>“And if not, I will have an amazing Queen to tell me all of the things that I am doing wrong”</p><p>Nesta opens her mouth to protest, but Cassian changes the topic quickly to stop her from fighting him on this right now. “I did come to see you after the war. Once, it was already too late, I had waited too long and I knew it, but one night I worked up the courage to come see you. It was right after you moved into that awful apartment, something about you leaving was like a kick in the side. I came to see you one night, but you were… not alone.”</p><p>Nesta nods, understanding flooding her face like he has just provided the final piece to a puzzle that lay incomplete in front of her “is that when you began sitting on my rooftop?”</p><p>“You knew?”</p><p>Nesta only nods.</p><p>“Why did you…” Cassian trails off</p><p>“You may ask me. I won’t get angry. Better have everything uncomfortable out now”</p><p>“Why did you do it? Refusing to see your sisters. The drinking and the… males?”</p><p>            “I did not want to see my sisters because they were celebrating a victory that I did not feel” she begins with the easiest answer “they were haunted by the war, I know, but they remained… light. Happy, they were able to heal and laugh. I was not.” Nesta looks down. “The first day that we returned to Velaris, I will never forget the moment that I realized I could not fit into the world that all of you lived in. I could still hear bones cracking in my ears and feel blood pasted on my skin, but Elain… Elain made some sort of joke about Amren’s temper and everyone laughed and went to start drinking. Like it was so easy, like it was all behind us. I stayed up that night. I was laying in my bed, unable to sleep from the nightmares that played across my mind in the dark, but I could hear you all. You and Mor and Azriel slipping right back into that easy flirtatious triangle. Rhys and Feyre so completely in tune with each other, and Elain… even she was just sitting there happily, content to soak in everyone else’s joy, already planning to build a garden in this new place, already deciding that it was <em>home</em>. It made me angry, so incredibly angry that you were able to just move on so quickly, so I left. I thought that it would be easier to manage things on my own rather than have Feyre always hovering around trying to make me happy, trying to figure out what was <em>wrong</em> with me.” Nesta closes her eyes, breathing deeply to keep the power at bay. White and grey mist swirls lightly at her fingertips, but she leans her head back, feeling Cassian’s solid, bare chest against her and she grounds herself in the moment.</p><p>“At first I wanted to feel something, anything that wasn’t pain and fear and loss. I wasn’t drunk when I took that first male into my bed. I know that you all think I was out of my mind, but I wasn’t. I knew exactly what I was doing. I picked someone soft and simple and easy. I just needed to feel something, and the way that all of you spoke with your stupid jokes and casual innuendo, I figured sex must be something pretty spectacular. I wanted to just do it, it seemed almost ridiculous that I had fought a war and levelled a battlefield, but I had never done something as basic as sex. So, I did it” she pauses “and then I realized that it didn’t change anything, didn’t make me feel any less hurt or hollow or alone. I decided that it was better to feel numb. It was just a bonus that the alcohol pushed my power down as well.”</p><p>            “I did the same thing 500 years ago” Cassian runs a hand over his face “there is something about sex that makes you think that you will feel alive again. I remember the sheer number of lives that were lost to my blades, my siphons. I craved the feeling of live, warm flesh underneath my own, anything that would make me feel <em>alive</em>.”</p><p>            “There was a part of me-” Nesta stops, the vulnerability not something that she is used to. She does not want to tell him this part, but she had forced his confessions, so fair is only fair “no one wanted me” she admits quietly “I hate the stupid, childish part of me that was ruled by the fact that no one wanted me, but… it is true. No one has ever really wanted me or liked me. I am not a ‘nice’ person. That is not self-depreciation, it is just a fact. I’m not nice, but all that anyone ever wants from women <em>or</em> females is for them to be beautiful and nice and sweet. Even strong women like Mor and powerful women like Feyre… it is meant to be all the more impressive because they are also just so… <em>nice</em>.” Nesta shakes her head “none of those males ever cared that I wasn’t. They never asked me to be something that I was not, never expected anything out of me other than what I also wanted out of them. It was nice, to be with another person and not feel like I was a disappointment just because of who I am. It was the first time that I did not wish I had died in the war.”</p><p>            Cassian’s head snaps up “you wished you had died?”</p><p>            Nesta only nods “I thought for a very long time that it would have been better for everyone if I were a brave, respected memory instead of a broken, painful reality. A problem to be solved.”</p><p>            “gods, Nes I-”</p><p>            “Don’t” she says quietly “I am not one for apologies. I do not give them, and I am not big on receiving them. I asked you for your truths and you asked me for mine. It was not my purpose for either of us to feel badly, only to <em>know</em>, because now we can put it behind us and look forward.”</p><p>            Cassian nods, still not entirely convinced, but that hardly matters when Nesta leans forward to kiss him and his hand finds its way to her bare skin again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>There you have it. I've known from the beginning that I wanted Nesta and Cassian to have some version of this conversation, to just put it all out there and then move forward. I'm sorry for anyone who was expecting fluffy happy mating sex for this whole chapter- next chapter they will start to move forward as a stronger, lighter, happier couple!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0020"><h2>20. Forever is not enough time</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Enjoy this chapter of pure fluff. Actual story development to come next time, thanks.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>Chapter 19</strong>
</p><p>            Nesta has never felt so… light, in all of her life. She and Cassian have been alone in their house for 9 days, no 10? 11? She doesn’t even remember, nor does she care. It was so easy to slip into a routine that involved barely leaving the bedroom, never wearing clothes, and letting him cook for her in nothing but his boxer shorts. Cassian is a surprisingly good cook, even if traditional Illyrian food appears to be mostly meat with a side of meat.</p><p>            More than any of that though, she and Cassian could just talk for hours at a time, they talked about her childhood, before and after her mother’s death, before and after they lost their money. They talked about Feyre and Nesta’s complicated relationship with her. They talked about Cassian’s difficult upbringing, those horrible early years at the camps before he met Rhys. They talk about his brothers, his entire little family and why they mean the world to him. They talk about the first war and how afraid Cassian had been, how every day on the battlefield he only fought so hard and got better because he refused to let Rhys or Az read his name on one of those lists that circled around. They even talk about Under The Mountain, how incredibly angry he was at Rhysand for all of his self-sacrificing bullshit, how he wanted to barge into that stupid cave and blast Amarantha to bits. They talk about every horrible thing that has happened to them both and hold each other tightly as they whisper how none of it will ever happen again. They will never feel so alone again no matter what.</p><p>            Nesta is awake early this morning because Rhysand sent her a note last night that her birthday gift was ready. He had it constructed in the gardens of the river palace and then just… poof, it was attached to her house here with a snap of his annoyingly powerful fingers. Nesta smiles wide as she walks in, it is bigger than she expected, and she can tell that Elain had a hand in it because it is everything that Nesta has ever dreamed of, full of tiny details that she had only ever told her favorite person.</p><p>            The space is 2 floors connected by a large spiraling staircase, the shelves are tall mahogany, carved right into the walls. The second floor has a giant plush bench carved right under the window, with plush burgundy cushions on top of it. Nesta has always wanted one of those. Actually, everywhere she turns that doesn’t have books there is a comfortable looking reading nook or chair. There’s even a little stack of reference binders on the first floor. Nesta picks one up and scans through some of the titles. She really wasn’t expecting Rhysand to actually put books in here as well, but as usual the insufferable prick is overly generous. What an annoying trait.</p><p>            Looking at the titles she sees that there are a number of history books about Prythian, myths and legends, magical texts, a few military tomes that she has to imagine are for Cassian. One section near the back reads “from the library of the Day Court” and Nesta smiles, mentally reminding herself to thank Helion. There are books on spells, the cauldron, and all kinds of magical problem-solving texts. She opens the second binder and her eyes widen in shock at the titles. Romance novels, by the looks of it some of the dirtiest romance novels that the Fae lands have to offer. She grumbles, curses Rhysand in her mind and then smiles a little.</p><p>            The final binder is miscellaneous, but there are a few titles on Illyrian history and traditions that she dog ears to read later. One text right at the bottom has a massive yellow highlight and a note beside it that says ‘second floor’.</p><p>            Nesta notes the serial number and author, scrunching up her nose when she sees that there is no title, and ascends the spiral staircase. It doesn’t take her long to find the book. It is large, the black spine is worn in and the gold lettering on the front is a little faded, but she can just make out the title.</p><p>
  <em>            Leadership for Dummies</em>
</p><p>            Nesta scoffs, about to put Rhysand’s little joke back on the shelf when she notices a piece of parchment sticking out of the top.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Nesta,</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>This book was written by one of the most well-regarded High Lord’s in history, Helion’s great-great grandfather. Many years ago, following the first war, Helion gifted it to me as a joke after I complained to him about having trouble keeping peace in the Night Court. I’ve read it so many times now that I think I could recite it from memory. She doesn’t know it, but I made Feyre read some of the more salient passages during our lessons when she first came to me. I would have gifted it to Cassian instead, but alas, I don’t believe the poor boy ever learned how to read. Take a look at it sister, and don’t forget our agreement.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <em>               - The brother with the largest wingspan</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Nesta rolls her eyes at Rhysand’s attempts to be charming, but she flips through a few pages of the book and sets it face down on a table beside one of the many reading chairs in her new library. Just as she does a low whistle sounds from a floor below her and Nesta turns, always a little unnerved at how silently Cassian is able to move for such a large male.</p><p>            “Rhys does love to go overboard, doesn’t he?” Cassian scoffs, taking in the space.</p><p>            “Please” Nesta waves a hand “I’ve seen the size of the jewels he gives Amren, this is a bargain gift in comparison”</p><p>            “Big words for someone who was wearing a blood ruby the size of an egg around her neck a few days ago.”</p><p>            “Last I checked, no one actually paid for that” Nesta points out coyly. Cassian smirks, flapping his wings to come face to face with her in a second, hovering in front of the bannister wearing nothing but a pair of silk boxers. Nesta bites her lip, still not entirely used to her 24/7 front row ticket to all of those muscles. “There is a staircase, you know”</p><p>            “This is so much more fun, though” he grins, putting a hand on the bannister and easily leaping over it so that he stands right in front of her, eyes trailing down to her barely-there lace nighty. “Ridiculous that you keep putting these on considering how many I have ripped at this point” he hooks a single finger under the thin strap and Nesta clamps her hand over his.</p><p>            “Not in my new library” she scolds him.</p><p>            Cassian raises an eyebrow “you don’t want it to feel left out, do you?” Nesta stares at him “it’s the only room in this house that we haven’t <em>christened</em> yet.”</p><p>            “You’re insatiable” she sighs, even as she tips her head back and lets him push her gently against one of the bookshelves, his tongue is flicking across the pulse point on her neck in an instant, and she likes that there is no reason to hide the moan that escapes her lips. She lets him play for a few moments, smiling at his ministrations, before taking the opportunity to turn the tables.</p><p>            Nesta grins wickedly, flipping them so that Cassian’s back is against the bookshelf. She runs a hand across the tight muscles in his chest and then sighs as she carefully starts to trail her hand down, until her thumb loops itself inside the waistband of his shorts. She pauses, catching his eyes and kissing him slowly, gently. He moves a hand to her strap again and Nesta uses the hand on in his boxers to slap him away “ah ah, no hands, or I’ll stop” she grins.</p><p>            “Stop what?” he asks, mouth falling open as he feels Nesta’s tongue tracing the lines of the tattoo on his shoulder, following the battle symbols down his torso. Her hand seamlessly slips his shorts away, tongue still moving south as she trails her way down, down, down.</p><p>            “Fuck, Nesta” his moan is guttural, and it is no surprise that he is fully at attention when Nesta finally sinks onto her knees, dipping her tongue into the hollow space between his pelvic muscles and the place where he really wants her. She pauses for a moment, looking up at him with her stormy gaze, eyes bright and playful. He swears again “you’re driving me crazy”</p><p>            “Get used to it” her mouth vibrates against his skin as she moves down to finally, finally run her tongue across the head of him.</p><p>            Cassian moans hard as he watches Nesta’s head bob up and down rhythmically, her tongue flicks the underside of his cock and he swears he might lose it right then and there like a teenager who has never felt a woman before. Gods, the things that she can do to him. Cassian moves gently, ever so carefully to run a hand through her hair from above, feeling his fingers work through the soft strands as he strokes the top of her head.</p><p>            It is unbelievable how the simple feeling of his hand, carefully entangled in her hair makes Nesta groan around his length. She knows that she said no hands, but his calloused fingers are so soft and gentle as they caress the top of her head. The feeling is reverent, as though even if she is the one on her knees, he is still worshipping her. He doesn’t grip her hair or try to push her down farther like that male she brought home did once. Nesta had thrown him out of her open window.</p><p>            “I can’t hold on much longer if you want to-” Cassian tries to keep his voice steady as he warns her, but he loses it into a series of explatives when she starts purposefully moving faster, swirling her tongue around him. It is when she looks up at him again, eyebrow raised, eyes positively brimming with the silent challenge that she has presented him since the second he met her, that Cassian feels himself fall over the edge, stars clouding his vision, he swears that instead of going black in that moment of ecstasy, his vision is overtaken with the exact shade of grey-blue that is staring up at him. The steely, determined, teasing gaze of a worthy opponent. The eyes that have stared and cried and torn and fought and challenged and taken over his every waking thought since first he saw her.</p><p>            A blade given form indeed- sleek and beautiful, and dangerous as hell.</p><p>            And his. She is all his, Cassian considers pinching himself to make sure it isn’t just a dream, but…</p><p>            “If all of this is a dream, I am going to gut the person who wakes me like a fish”</p><p>            Nesta laughs, standing up with a coy smile. Cassian catches her around the waist and kisses her softly “your turn” he whispers, hand going to that infernal strap for the third time, finally managing to snap it under his powerful fingers.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>            “I want to show you something after lunch” Cassian presses a kiss to Nesta’s forehead as he rises from their bed, trying to find where he discarded his boxers.</p><p>            “They’re still on the floor in the library” Nesta snickers.</p><p>            “Once we hire a housekeeper you are going to have to learn to control yourself” he grins, and Nesta chucks a pillow at him, which he catches easily.</p><p>            “I want to hire a whole household” Nesta stares down at her hands.</p><p>            “Do we really need-”</p><p>            “No” she shakes her head “of course we don’t need it, but I was thinking about something Feyre said, about her art classes. She mentioned that for some of the kids who come it’s just nice for a widow to have the afternoon off, and that’s Velaris.” She looks up at him “I can’t even imagine what it is like to be a widow in Illyria. It’s so cold and harsh and-”</p><p>            “You want to staff our home with Illyrian war widows?”</p><p>            “Is that stupid?” Nesta can’t remember the last time she has let herself sound so vulnerable. She knows about running a household in some senses, she was raised to do so for a good portion of her life, and she did it once Feyre left and the money came back. Her father was away so often and Elain was busy falling in love. She is sure that it is different with fae, but she’s a quick learner. Maybe they could let the housekeeper be in charge of the staff and-</p><p>            Cassian breathes in hard, interrupting her train of thought “Nesta you are not making this easy for me” she cocks her head “here I am, trying to get dressed and go about doing some actual work and then you just have to go and remind me that every time I think I can’t possibly fall more in love with you… I can.”</p><p>            Nesta shrugs “you should probably get used to being wrong.”</p><p>            Cassian laughs “oh sweetheart I gave up that battle the day I met you” he moves back to the bed, kissing her forehead again, bringing his hands to cup her face gently “we will hire anyone who is looking for work. I’ll build that second house across the lake as a servant’s quarters. Do you like horses?” Nesta nods “Illyrians don’t ride very often, but I know some females who have been clipped like to tend and keep horses. I’ll build a stable and we can hire a group of such females to tend it. We can hire 3 separate females just to brush your hair if you want-”</p><p>            “That seems a little unnecessary” Nesta snorts.</p><p>            “You’re right, I’d rather do that myself anyway” he grins wolfishly, running his fingers through her loose golden curls. Nesta bats his hand away.</p><p>            “What did you want to show me?”</p><p>            He nods “right, we have a guest coming in an hour if you’d like to eat and get dressed”</p><p>            Nesta nods “it might actually feel nice to put real clothes on again.”</p><p>            “it’s a necessary evil, unfortunately.”</p><p>            “You have my permission to walk around the world naked if you’d like” Nesta shrugs “people couldn’t possibly think that you are any <em>more</em> insane and arrogant”</p><p>            “hmm, don’t tempt me Nes” his eyes glaze a little as they rake over her body “I can’t say that I would grant you the same permission, if you asked for it.”</p><p>            “I wouldn’t” she confirms, the glint in her eyes telling him that she would not be asking permission for anything, obviously.</p><p>She already acted like a Queen, why couldn’t she just let him put a damn crown on that beautiful head of hers. Cassian smirks a little, imagining the scene from earlier but with a jeweled tiara on her head as she kneeled before him-</p><p>“Who is this mysterious guest?” Nesta is already pulling a simple gown out of her closet, it’s something she wore in the day court, flowing golden skirts and a white velvet bodice. He makes a note to ask her later if she actually prefers the Day Court clothing or if it is just all she has. Either way, he supposes they will both need some new clothing as he slips into a casual pair of black pants and a grey shirt.</p><p>“you’ll see” he smirks.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>            With how dodgy Cassian had been about the guest, Nesta was certainly not expecting Azriel to appear in their foyer. She raises an eyebrow at her mate, <em>as if to say this is the big secret?</em></p><p>            Cassian only nods to his brother “you brought the pen, I presume?” Azriel nods, his shadows slowly seeping away from his body to explore the new space.</p><p>            “You seem rather… controlled” Az raises an eyebrow, surprised that his brother is so calm at the first presence of another male since his mating.</p><p>            “I suppose I am simply more confident that my mate is entirely satisfied than Rhys was”</p><p>            Azriel scoffs “I should hope so after not leaving this house for 10 days”</p><p>            <em>10 days</em>. Only 4 more until that meeting. No wonder Rhysand left her that note in the library.</p><p>            “Can I offer you some tea, brother?”</p><p>            “No, I’d rather just get this done and get out of here. You 2 still smell like new mates, it’s nauseating.”</p><p>            “Get what done?” Nesta raises an eyebrow and Cassian just gestures to a set of chairs in the sitting room. He sits Nesta to his right and Azriel to his left. Nesta watches Azriel reach into one of his weird little shadow realms and pull out what looks like a thin black pen, except that the top, where the head should be, is made of silver metal, sharp looking, pointed, and glowing.</p><p>            “I realized that it isn’t practical for me to wear a ring like you wanted. I know that Rhys does, but he doesn’t really do anything anyway” Azriel laughs “I train so much that it’s inevitable I’d lose it, or it’d get caught in someone’s sword and skin my hand.”</p><p>            Nesta recoils at the image.</p><p>            “And since Azriel so helpfully drew out those symbols for your necklace, I figured he was the person to call.”</p><p>            “To call for what?” Nesta is still confused as Azriel reaches for Cassian’s left wrist, turning his palm over and spreading his fingers wide.</p><p>            “Are you going to cry like the first time I put one of these on you?”</p><p>            “I was 10, and you pushed too hard” Cassian scoffs.</p><p>            Azriel shrugs, touching the sharp metal to his brother’s ring finger, concentrating carefully on making sure his half diamonds are the perfect distance apart before he moves to start connecting them on the other side of Cassian’s finger. He nearly loses concentration when Nesta gasps, clearly having put the pieces together in her head. Because of course Cassian couldn’t just tell her what was going on like a normal male, no, it always has to be a show with him. Azriel rolls his eyes as he finishes the final flourish, watching the magical ink shimmer for a second and then seep into his brother’s skin. Perfect.</p><p>            “Thank you-”</p><p>            “Don’t mention it” Azriel has called his shadows back to him and disappeared in a black puff before anyone can try to coerce him into staying for a cup of tea and watching these 2 eye fuck each other any longer. Gods doesn’t he get that enough with Rhys and Feyre? Azriel thinks in that moment that it might be time for him to move somewhere very far away for a few years.</p><p>            Nesta blinks a couple times before she moves quickly to sit in Azriel’s vacant chair. She snatches Cassian’s hand and looks at the symbol, the same one that sits in precious metal on her left finger. True love. The symbol that marks him as hers and she as his. She wears it on jewelry and he just… etched it onto his skin, without a second thought, as though it is no big deal.</p><p>            “Isn’t that permanent?” She stares at the ink</p><p>            “Entirely” he nods.</p><p>            “Aren’t you worried that-”</p><p>            “No.” his words are quick, certain.</p><p>            Nesta shakes her head, closing her eyes and sighing out a heavy breath “we still don’t know what exactly my powers are, I’m still not even fully comfortable in this new body. I can’t promise-”</p><p>            “You don’t scare me, Nesta.” Cassian doesn’t drop her gaze “you never have, and you never will. I wasn’t afraid of you when you were human huffing and puffing and insulting me. I wasn’t afraid of you when you fell out of the cauldron, and I saw that power inside of you. I wasn’t afraid of you when the bone carver said you were a death god. I wasn’t afraid of you when you ripped Hybern’s head off and I wasn’t even afraid when you shot that power at me in the Day Court. The only thing that I have ever been afraid of is not having you in my life. That terrifies me.” His thumb is caressing her wrist, moving in slow careful circles. His eyes cloud over a bit “those months when you wouldn’t talk to me, that was terrifying. I have been in 2 wars, my body is littered with marks for strength and glory and power and protection, but none of them mean anything. This-” he holds out his hand, the black of the carefully etched symbol stark and obvious even against his golden-brown skin. “this means everything, and it is permanent. You are stuck with me, Nesta, and I don’t care what you say or do.”</p><p>            “What if I push you away again?”</p><p>            Cassian raises an eyebrow “try it” he grins, jumping off of the chair.</p><p>            “Excuse me?”</p><p>            “Try it, try to push me away” he pulls her up, planning her hands on his chest.</p><p>            “This is ridiculous.”</p><p>            He laughs “I’m pretty tough, sweetheart. It takes a lot to push me away.”</p><p>            “Ok well what if I lose control of my powers again?”</p><p>            “Then I’ll go with you to the Day Court and threaten Helion to keep his stupid spell-cleaving hands off of you” Cassian emphasizes his point by pulling Nesta closer to him, wrapping his arms around her waist as he smiles down at her.</p><p>            “Hmm” Nesta drawls “what if I decide that I never want to see Rhysand or Morrigan ever again?”</p><p>            Cassian freezes, arms going still around Nesta’s body. He sighs, pulling her even closer so that his head rests on top of her own “I will always have to see them in an official capacity, but you do not have to be there” he pauses “I understand your feelings, and I would never make you do anything that you don’t want to, but they are my family and <em>I </em>would like to see them-”</p><p>            “I don’t really want that” Nesta breathes into his chest “I would never keep you from your family, and they might not be my favorite people, but Mor is trying so I can do the same. Plus, I love my sisters and Feyre loves Rhysand so there must be some good in him” Cassian laughs “I just wanted you to really think about the decision that you’re making. Forever is a very long time.”</p><p>            “Forever still would not be enough time with you, Nesta.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So I lied about this ending at 20 chapters, obviously. I'm thinking there's only 2-3 more though!!</p>
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<a name="section0021"><h2>21. His Queen/Her King</h2></a>
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    <p>Chapter 20<br/>       Nesta has attended a meeting of trumped up male authority figures before, so she isn’t exactly surprised by the round table, the various attendants that stand around and behind their lords, or even the mind games of being forced to wait while the last 2 camp lords no doubt decide whether or not they will show up at all.<br/>She <em>is</em> surprised that all of the Lords who have arrived thus far have brought their wives with them. The High Lords of Prythian had done that as well, but… Nesta knows how Illyrians tend to view females. She notes that most of the women still keep their hands tucked in close, eyes fixed firmly on the table in front of them even as the men grunt and appear to be discussing various things amongst themselves. She takes note of the few who don’t, Kallon’s mate- Terria, of course, but there are at least 2 others who stare ahead with impassive expressions, even going so far as to meet her gaze a time or two. One of them is sitting beside a man that she vaguely recognizes but can’t quite place.<br/>       “How long do we wait?” she whispers under her breath, just loud enough for her mate to hear. Even Rhysand does not hear her despite sitting only 2 spots away, at the head of the table- it’s a round table, so how he has managed to somehow stake out the spot where he and Feyre are sitting as the ‘head’, she is not sure, but everyone is instantly aware that it is.<br/>       Cassian does not respond out loud, only sends some sort of encouraging humm down that shimmering thread that connects them; mind, body, and soul. It’s a strange feeling, one that will take some getting used to. Nesta is not someone who likes to feel as though another person is a part of her, but she can’t deny that the feeling in her veins is familiar, something so unlike the grating purr that Feyre has described. This is different. It’s light and calm and completely not sexual. Comforting. It is like the man beside her is as much attached to her body as her own arm. Her gaze flicks down to the tattoo on his ring finger and she smiles a little, placing her hand over his on her leg under the table.<br/>       “I believe we have waited long enough” it is Feyre’s voice that finally calls order to the room, not Rhysand’s. 2 of the lords almost look as though they are going to continue speaking just to defy the High Lady, but a well-placed glare from Rhys has them thinking better of it.<br/>       “I thank you all for being here today” Rhysand stands, black waves of power pouring out of him.<br/>       <em>Like we had a choice</em> Nesta hears someone scoff from farther down the table.<br/>       Rhysand only smirks “it is exactly that lack of choice which I have called you all here to discuss-”<br/>       “You forced us all here to discuss our discontent at the fact that you may force us to do as you wish?” the door breezes open, one of the missing lords strolls in casually, sitting at an open spot at the table. “apologies for my tardiness of course, oh High Prince of Darkness” his voice is gruff and sarcastic. Nesta clutches Cassian’s hand to stamp down the power itching to burst forward.<br/>       She is angry at someone insulting Rhysand. Isn’t that an interesting and utterly horrifying development.<br/>       “Grigor, I am glad you could join us. Where, may I ask, is the Lady of Drum Harbour.”<br/>       “I believe you are aware that my wife passed a few decades back” the Illyrian stares hard. He is large and generally rough-hewn as most Illyrian’s are, but there is something different about him. His features are just a touch darker, eyes nearly ebony and hair so impenetrably black that it unsettles Nesta. Cassian has black hair, but not so relentless, she has seen the little strands of brown and gold pulled out in the morning sun. This man is all dark. His wings are smaller than Cassian and Azriel she notes, but not by much.<br/>       “And I believe you are aware that I instructed you bring you daughter as honorary Lady for these purposes.” Rhys’ voice is a calm growl.<br/>       “She was a little busy with the wash I’m afraid” the man shrugs. Feyre looks about ready to jump out of her seat and lunge across the table at him. Her eyes are glassy in the way that they always are when Rhysand is talking to her inside of her mind.<br/>       “If you do not wish to follow the rules of this meeting, then you may leave” everyone’s head spins quickly to Cassian, surprised that he would speak when his High Lord so clearly has the floor. Rhysand only grins.<br/>       “I don’t take my orders from bastards” the man growls. Nesta can see Rhysand raise his hand, likely about to strike at the man. Nesta shakes her head and raises a delicate palm of her own.<br/>       “Please” her voice is calm and even “allow me” with an almost imperceptible flick of her wrist a cell of black mist erects itself around the man’s chair, blocking him in the way Nesta had done to Rhysand not so long ago. The look that he shoots her leaves her with no doubt that he remembers, and approves. She pauses, waves her hand again and the mist fades only a little, the lord’s angry form can be seen, beating his fists uselessly against the border “there, now he can hear what we say, but there will be no need for distractions.” She turns to Rhysand “proceed.”<br/>       No one in the room misses that she declines to address him by a title. Or that he has heeded her commands for when to start and stop speaking.<br/>       “Careful Rhysand, or we will start to think that the bastard and his witch are running this Court” the lord that Nesta recognizes scoffs at the display. His words are light, almost joking, and clearly meant as more of an insult to Rhysand than her or Cassian. She still takes note of him with a hard glare.<br/>       “Not the entire court, Devlon” Rhys smirks “Just Illyria.”<br/>       Silence. Complete, careful, contemplative silence fills the entire room. There are no shocked gasps, or angered huffs. Rhysand had dropped enough crumbs when he went to the camps that anyone with half a brain would have picked them up. No one truly walked into this meeting looking for a revelation. They knew, but still… 11 hulking Illyrian Lord’s, 10 newly minted Ladies of Illyria, the Lord of Bloodshed, the most powerful High Lord in Prythian History, the first High Lady of Prythian, and the Thief of Life and Death itself all sit in a single room, and not so much as an intake of breath can be heard.<br/>       The lord that Nesta recognized, Devlon, she reminds herself, is the first to speak.<br/>       “Windhaven will stand behind its King and Queen” he nods his head simply, and Nesta narrows her eyes at him. He only shrugs, as if to say that she may have his support, but she is not entitled to his reasons. Fair enough.<br/>       “Of course, Iron Crest will as well” Kallon speaks immediately.<br/>       “Your father not even a fortnight in the ground and already you jump to kiss the feet of his murderers” one of the lord’s from the other side of the table growls, hands digging tightly into the wood. His wife winces beside him.<br/>       “There is a difference between murder and execution” everyone is surprised by the soft voice that fills the room. Eyes shift to Terria, bristling her still-scarred wings in her chair “as one who has committed both, I should think that you would understand that, Bastien.”<br/>       The lord stills, eyes casting downward for only a moment. He does not look happy, but the threat in Terria’s eyes is clear. She knows something about this man. “How is answering to the High Lord’s lap dog any better than existing under his thumb?” Bastien has calmed his inquiry considerably, but he still presses forward.<br/>       “Cassian is my brother” Rhysand nods “Illyria is and always will be a part of the Night Court” as he speaks, thick tendrils of navy and black power fill the room. He spreads his wings wider in his chair “no one here takes lightly the sacrifices that were made in the war. You may think otherwise, but it is not my wish to be the enemy of anyone here.”<br/>       “No, it is only your wish that we serve you obediently.”<br/>       “Everyone in this court serves me and the High Lady” Rhysand growls.<br/>       “I don’t” Nesta ignores the blazing rage that Rhysand is shooting at her through his gaze. He nearly shouts, but Feyre’s hand reaches for his arm.<br/>       <em>You said you wanted her to be a Queen. Let her be one.</em><br/>       “I live in the Night Court, as such in some ways I answer to the High Lord and Lady” Nesta continues “but I do not serve them, because I am a person in my own right who they do not own” a few of the lord’s grumble a begrudging agreement. “Illyria is a great nation. I have learned much of it from my mate. You are not a collection of soldiers, you are a proud people with your own traditions and history and culture.” Nesta pauses, lifting her hand to display the unmistakable collection of Illyrian runes that encircle her engagement band. “I know of no one more invested in preserving the Illyrian culture than Cassian.” Nesta inclines her head to her mate “I know of no one who has bled more for this land, who has seen and heard and felt the darkest, coldest, cruelest parts of this country and still loved it so completely. You all dare to question his loyalty to Illyria while you sit here prepared to launch your people, who are still healing from a war, into a civil revolution that you have no hope of winning? Bravery is one thing. Hubris is quite another.”<br/>       “We are healing from your war” one of the lord’s stares at her hard. Nesta matches his gaze.<br/>       “Hybern would have razed Prythian to the ground. I know what he did to those that he saw as lesser than him. Mortals, lesser fae, anyone who might hold him back. The cauldron showed me his heart. The only way to survive him was to fight.”<br/>       “Illyrians do not begrudge the taste of battle” Devlon’s voice is calm and final.<br/>       The unnamed lord still stares at Nesta. She inclines her head “I see three in this room who have died to protect this territory.” She gazes pointedly at the High Lord and Lady and then allows some of the white mist of her power to swirl at her fingertips. She died for this land as well. “and I note that through the war not one Illyrian camp lost a lord?”<br/>       “How dare you” Nesta widens her eyes at the sound of a female voice. One of the women who met her gaze earlier “how dare you say that you are the only one who sacrificed. You may have died in whatever poetic way you wish to speak it, but every one of you had a collection of High Lord’s there to bring you back.” The woman stares hard “my son died in a blast meant for this man that you now try to make my king. He stands here alive because you called to him.”<br/>       “I did not mean to say that you have not made sacrifices, My Lady” the woman straightens a little at the title “do you have any other children?”<br/>       The woman is taken aback by the softness in Nesta’s eyes, the genuine interest. She swallows hard “A daughter. She is only 3.”<br/>       Nesta nods thoughtfully “I am very sorry for the loss of your son. It haunts my nightmares that I was too late to warn the general properly of the attack coming. I do not take the loss of those lives in vain. You will always love your son, but it is time now to think of the world that you would like your daughter to live in.”<br/>       The woman pauses, face hardening. She is not appeased. Nesta’s words are a cold comfort, but she does see the truth in her words, feels heavily the fear of watching her daughter grow older, of knowing how dangerous it can be for a woman in Illyria… for a woman anywhere.<br/>       “You would stop the clipping?”<br/>       “Wing clipping is already illegal in the-”<br/>       “I did not ask you” the woman does not turn her gaze from Nesta’s as she cuts Feyre off.<br/>       Nesta nods, speaking no words. This woman does not want her words. She wants action.<br/>       “It is not an Illyrian tradition to clip wings and refuse to allow women to fight” Cassian says calmly “it is a practice that has developed over many centuries, but it is not a part of our culture in its purest form, it’s strongest form.” The sound of several pairs of wings bristling fills the room “Enalius, god of Illyria, did not clip wings. No early stories speak of the practice, or of a refusal to train women. Do you know why?” the silence is tense, several lord’s are clearly forcing themselves not to interrupt “because he did not need to. He did not need to clip a woman to stop her from flying away, he did not have to fear being bested in the battlefield. True strength does not have to weaken others.”<br/>       Cassian looks at the lord’s, meeting each of their gazes in turn “I know every one of you. I have known you since I was a bastard foot soldier in the first war. I did not beg for your respect then, and I will not do it now. I have nothing to prove to any of you. I desire to see a united Illyria that is free to make its own choices, a version of our great nation that might recapture the glory it once had. I long to see an Illyria that does not have to shout its power to the rest of the world, because they will know without us telling them.” He pauses, resting his hand on Nesta’s, unabashedly showing the permanent runes inked onto his finger “I do not wish to force your obedience, and I will not. I do not need to deliver a rousing speech about everything that I stand for, the changes that I would see made in this country, because all of you know already who I am and what I stand for. I will let what you know of me on the battlefield and off of it stand as you make this choice.”<br/>       The lord’s shift again, this time they do look surprised “because it is a choice” Cassian nods “I am offering every male and female here a short period in which to make their decision. If you can envision the sort of Illyria that I speak of, and want to make it a reality then you will come to Cáellar and swear fealty to a new King and Queen.” He pauses, allowing any objections to be stated, smirking a little as no one outwardly object to Nesta’s position. At least he can leave this room knowing that he won on one count. “If that is not the world that you wish to live in, I have spoken to the High Lord of Autumn and he has agreed to let you live as you wish as members of his army. Every Illyrian will be given this choice, and anyone found to be taking another to the Autumn Court against their wishes will be put to death on the spot. Every male and female will decide for themselves.” Cassian squeezes Nesta’s hand as she sends an overwhelming sense of pride down the bond. It glows and flickers and strengthens him more than he could ever imagine.<br/>       “I will tell you now, my lords and ladies.” Feyre’s voice is strong and clear as she takes the floor “the choice is yours, but anyone found to be taking advantage of this generosity on the part of your new king, anyone who seeks to move against us or bring violence to this Court, will be met with a swift and unforgiving end.”<br/>It is a fearsome tableu they make, there is no denying it. Feyre with the power of 7 High Lords roiling under her skin, Rhysand with his midnight swirls of power, Nesta with her steel gaze of death, grey misting at her fingertips, and Cassian, with nothing but his large outstretched wings, and that warrior heart planted firmly on his sleeve.<br/>       “How long do we have to decide?” the voice is calm, a little timid even despite coming from one of the largest lord’s at the table.<br/>       Nesta and Cassian both send the same jolt down the bond at the exact same moment, and just like that, they know exactly what to say.<br/>       “Anyone who wishes to remain in this land is invited to join us in Cáellar in one week’s time” Nesta nods.<br/>       “Where we will christen the dawn of a new Illyria, and host our wedding celebration.” Cassian does not even care that the wide grin on his face is less than fearsome. Let them see, let them all see how proud he is to have this woman by his side, in his heart, as a piece of him. His Queen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Sorry for the delay, I've mentioned before that I'm a lawyer and big files come up sometimes. I hope you are all still enjoying this and let me know if you are! Only 2 more chapters left and I am determined to get them out before ACOSF!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0022"><h2>22. All That Matters</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I had just one more scene that I wanted to get out before the epilogue, but they kind of went together so I decided to combine them both into this final chapter. Thank you to everyone who has come on this journey with me, it was such a wonderful way to make my own story while I waited for Nesta and Cassian's book to come out and I hope that it was an enjoyable experience for you all during this nightmare of a year as well. </p><p>Please enjoy Nesta and Cassian's happy ending.</p>
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    <p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong>
    <span class="u">Chapter 21</span>
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</p><p>         Nesta knows that she will have to stand in front of hundreds, maybe (hopefully) even thousands of people tomorrow, High Fae and Illyrian both, most of whom will either have no idea who she is or will hate her guts entirely. She knows that some cloying, preening, insufferable priestess is going to bellow out pretty words about love and happiness and everlasting joy and what a gift all of this is from the cauldron.</p><p>         Nesta even knows that she is going to have to smile and nod while Rhysand and Feyre sign a declaration of independence that will make Illyria a sovereign state within the Night Court. She knows that she is going to have to curtsey and accept a crown from her little sister.</p><p>         All in all, Nesta is rather worried about her dental health if she is being honest, gritting one’s teeth against each other with immortal strength for an entire day surely can’t be good for the enamel.</p><p>         Nesta knows all of this, has accepted it, and yet she knows that she is going to do it. And that is saying something, the fact that she <em>knows</em> she is going to go through with this, that she is completely certain that she won’t run away. There is no fear inside of her that untamed power is going to break things across her and Cassian’s home at the mere sight of Rhysand’s face. She knows that she is not going to need to numb herself with alcohol to get through it. She is going to do this thing that she does not want to do, she is going to face these people that she does not want to face, and in a way… that is one of her greatest accomplishments.</p><p>         Not even the doing of these things, but the being certain enough of her own mind, her own feelings and emotions, hell even her own body to <em>know</em> that she is going to do it. That kind of complete control over herself, her power, and her emotions is something that Nesta never imagined she would feel again, not after the cauldron.</p><p>         “What are you thinking about?” Cassian’s voice is thick with sleep as he rolls closer to her on the bed, arms circling around her waist as he blocks the first few bits of sunlight with his left wing.</p><p>         “How do you know I’m thinking about anything” she turns in his arms, so they are almost nose-to-nose. Cassian takes the opportunity to kiss her quickly. A light, gentle, good-morning kiss.</p><p>         “I can feel it” his thumb traces lazy circles on her hip “it feels… peaceful.”</p><p>         Nesta’s lip pulls up in a tiny smile “I suppose it was. I was just thinking about how I know I’m not going to back out or runaway tomorrow”</p><p>         “I am endlessly glad to hear it” Cassian snorts, unconsciously tightening his arms around her.</p><p>         “You know what I mean” she says quietly.</p><p>         He nods “I do, imagine that. We’ve come a long way since you called me a hulking bastard and kneed me in the balls, huh?”</p><p>         Nesta laughs, a low, quick sort of sound “if I recall you labelled me a selfish shrew before you’d ever met me.”</p><p>         “You must learn to ignore almost everything that I say, everyone else seems to.”</p><p>         “The key to a happy marriage, I am sure.” Cassian has a teasing reply on his tongue, but Nesta quickly leans forward to kiss him and suddenly it doesn’t matter what he might have said. Nesta pauses, a hand on his chest and she pulls back “you don’t” she says quietly “feel peaceful I mean. Are you-”</p><p>         “No” Cassian says immediately, pulling her hand from his chest and lifting it to his lips “no second thoughts, no regrets, no cold feet. Not about you, my love. Never about you.”</p><p>         “About the rest of it though” she sighs, and they both know that she’s right, so Cassian doesn’t even bother denying it.</p><p>         “I don’t know if we can handle another war” he admits quietly “what if no one shows up? What if the lords have all banded together and the Night Court is launched into the very civil war this has all been to avoid?”</p><p>         Nesta shakes her head “you’re a leader, Cassian. People believe in you.” She pauses, hand moving to cup his face so that he has to look into her eyes “I believe in you.”</p><p>         “But-”</p><p>         “A few men do not speak for all of Illyria. You know as well as I that often those at the top are the most disillusioned. These lords do not know the true heart of Illyria.”</p><p>         “One could argue that I am the very essence of someone being at the top and out of touch.”</p><p>         Nesta shakes her head “people who are out of touch do not spend months individually thanking grieving families for their service and sacrifice. People who are out of touch do not buy clothing for an entire camp’s poor and starving. People who are out of touch cannot remember what it is to be one of the less fortunate. You are very powerful, and very capable, and- despite your insistence on providing me with endless amounts of evidence to the contrary- very intelligent.” He barks out a laugh “but that is not why people follow you, it isn’t why people love you. You are <em>good</em>, Cassian. You are what we all wish we could be, you’re like Feyre in that way.” Cassian’s eyes widen in surprise at her statement, it is not often that Nesta compliments her youngest sister “you’re a fighter. You don’t give up and you don’t back down, but you also care. You genuinely care about Illyria, and that is something that cannot be faked. The fact that you have managed to keep your heart after everything… I don’t know how you do it, honestly.”</p><p>         “Yes you do. You care more deeply than any of us” Cassian sighs the words into her hair “what I do is easy, smiling and pretending that everything is fine and buying clothes is easy. Facing shit is hard. Admitting that you aren’t ok is hard. I’ve never been able to do it.”</p><p>         “We may simply have to agree to disagree” Nesta says quietly.</p><p>         Cassian nods, kissing the top of Nesta’s head lightly “you need to get dressed now, because I have a surprise for you.”</p><p>         Nesta narrows her eyes in suspicion “why do your surprises always involve me having to put on clothing?”</p><p>         Cassian groans a little, rolling over “believe me, it is absolute torture, but this is important. Az is going to-”</p><p>         “Why do all of your surprises involve me having to get dressed <em>and</em> Azriel being present?”</p><p>         Cassian stares at her for a second “because if they involved you <em>not</em> being dressed and Azriel being present then I would have to commit fratricide and that would really be a mess for us all.” Nesta continues to stare at him “it’s not just Azriel this time” he defends.</p><p>         “How many people did you invite to our house the day before we are going to have half a country here, Cassian!”</p><p>         He grins “just two, get up and put your robe on, I promise you’ll thank me in a minute.”</p><p>         Nesta sighs, taking her time moving to the washroom that sits off of their bedroom “I’m taking a bath first” she mutters, closing the door behind her. Cassian laughs.</p><p>         When Nesta exits the bathroom, Cassian is no longer in her bedroom, but she wasn’t expecting him to be since she heard male voices and the outer door closing about twenty minutes ago. Someone is in her bedroom though, because she can smell a hint of lavender and mint and hear things jostling about. Nesta ties her dressing gown tightly around herself and tentatively pokes her head out the door.</p><p>         “Elain” she smiles immediately, moving to hug her favorite sister, except that she can’t, because elain is holding a rather large bag of some sort with a hanger sticking out the top. “What’s going on?”</p><p>         Elain takes a step towards the window and reaches up to hang the bag before she turns back to her sister with the widest, happiest smile Nesta has seen on her face in a while. “Ok, you’re either going to love me or hate me!”</p><p>         “I could never hate you, Elain.”</p><p>         “Good, because you aren’t getting married tomorrow.” Nesta raises an eyebrow “well, I mean of course you are, but in that whole big stuffy Illyrian ceremony in front of everyone and with the priestess and everything. Oh I couldn’t believe that you even agreed to it. Of course I understand why you did, but I made Az send Cassian a message as soon as I found out!”</p><p>         “Slow down, Elain, what are you talking about?”</p><p>         “I am talking about your wedding of course! The one we have been planning since I could talk, maybe even before that honestly, anyway-”</p><p>         “Elain that was a human wedding, it’s not-”</p><p>         “It won’t be the same, I know. It can’t be, I mean the groom has wings for heavens sake! But…” Elain moves towards the window again, reaching up to pull at the zipper on the bag she was carrying when she entered “it can be as close to what you always dreamed of as we can make it” she pushes the bag away and Nesta’s jaw drops. She might start to cry.</p><p>         It’s <em>the</em> dress.</p><p>         The one that she used to doodle on big sheets of snowy white crate paper when she and Elain were silly, rich little children giggling at the thought of marrying a lord someday. The one that she edited and scaled down as she got older, the puffy skirt being replaced with a tasteful A-line, the poofy sleeves becoming simple off-the-shoulder wisps of fabric, the material turning from tulle and taffeta to light silk. The one she still drew sometimes in their tiny little cottage, with scraps of charcoal on the backs of the pages in the few books that she managed to keep when her family lost everything. The one that she used to see herself wearing when she closed her eyes at night in that freezing little cabin, picturing a prince coming to take her away, to save her from the life she was stuck in.</p><p>         “How did you-” Nesta’s voice is hoarse, it catches on the syllables as she steps forward.</p><p>         “I memorized it every time you changed it” Elain smiles “whenever you drew on those little pages… I’d sneak in after you set the book down and look at what you’d changed.”</p><p>         Nesta can’t help it, she wraps her little sister in her arms, fitting her chin perfectly into the crook at her neck. “Thank you Elain. I love you so much” she pauses, closing her eyes and sighing “but I can’t wear it. Illyrian-”</p><p>         “brides wear black I know, and you’ll wear black… tomorrow.” Nesta pulls back “tomorrow you can participate in all of their traditions, but today” Elain bites her lip, looking back at the dress with a mischievous glint in her eye “today we are showing those Illyrians <em>our</em> traditions.”</p><p>         “Does Cassian-”</p><p>         “Of course he knows” Elain waves a hand “I couldn’t have planned everything without him. Oh just wait until you see-” Elain covers her mouth with her hand “nope, no giving away any surprises” Nesta’s eyes widen a little “don’t worry though, it’s just going to be me and Az to witness. I thought.. I thought that might be better.”</p><p>         Now Nesta really might cry. Her lip quivers a little and Elain smiles even wider, not giving her the opportunity to say anything, which is of course exactly what Nesta needs in those moment.</p><p>         “Now come over here, we have to start on your hair.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <strong>Epilogue</strong>
</p><p>         Years later, centuries later, even, it is not the perfect wedding that Nesta remembers. She has a perfect mate, she thinks on several occasions. No, not perfect, that’s such a boring word. Who would want perfect? He is perfect for <em>her</em>. She knows that mates are not always perfect for each other, so really once she and Cassian managed to figure things out, she knew that she didn’t need the perfect wedding she had been planning since she was a little girl. She had a perfect man…male, she supposes, and wasn’t that the whole point of all her romance novels?</p><p>         When Nesta thinks of their wedding, as she sometimes does, it is not the grassy aisle lined with rose petals or the hand-carved wooden arch that her husband to be stood under that she remembers.</p><p>         When every camp lord and half of the Night Court watch her and Cassian have crowns placed upon their heads and she needs a happy memory to make herself smile through the feeling of being a fraud, it is not the perfectly fitted cream silk dress with a sweetheart neckline and a pearl belt around her waist that flowed out into a light, soft, perfect pool of fabric down her legs that she thought of.</p><p>         When moments of unrest occurred, when peace had to be negotiated and renegotiated throughout the decades and centuries to follow, and she had to be the queen that the crown on her head proclaimed her to be. When she had to speak for her people, even against her own sister, it was not the bouquets of flowers or the sun just starting to set behind them, bursting through the sky in the most glorious show of pink and red and blue that entered her mind.</p><p>       It didn’t really matter, in the end, that she had all of those things. It was nice to have them, she will always treasure the memory of that moment, her wedding, and it was nothing short of magnificent to have all of the things she ever dreamed of.</p><p>         That wasn’t what mattered though.</p><p>         What mattered was that it was Cassian standing under that arch. It was his eyes, that impossible and ever-changing combination of gold and brown and green, that were lining with tears as he watched her. It was his hand she took after Elain walked her down the aisle, it was his vow she heard to love and honor and protect, and it was his lips that she kissed.</p><p>          Nesta thought of her wedding day often, but never more than in this moment. She has never been more grateful for the man who wrapped his arms around her only minutes earlier while she tore her body apart, screaming and crying and hurling insults at him all the while. As she lays her back against his warm chest, reaching her arms up to accept the impossibly tiny little bundle that the healer places in her arms, she thinks about how much she loves her husband, her mate. She loves him with every dark, powerful, broken, put back together and still healing piece of herself. She loves that on that day, their wedding day, he gave every piece of himself to her and she to him, and she loves that now they have both given each other something completely new and perfect in every way.</p><p>          In fact, right now, when her gaze falls from one set of hazel eyes to another, perfect carbon copies of each other, she realizes that when her little girl asks her about her wedding, as Nesta often asked her own mother, it won’t be any of the <em>things</em> that were present that she tells her about. She barely even remembers the flowers or the arch or the dress. There are other things that she does remember though, the important things, the things that she can recall with perfect clarity.  She remembers how she <em>felt.</em></p><p>         She remembers that her sister was the one who made it possible, and that makes her smile.</p><p>         She remembers that it was the day that by every right that she and he were both raised with, they bound themselves to each other for eternity, and that she has not regretted that decision once in the many, many decades that have passed, nor will she in the centuries that lay ahead of them.</p><p>         She remembers that some of her favorite romance novels are the long, drawn out ones where the hero and heroine fight and rage and the reader isn’t even sure if they will end up together.</p><p>         She remembers that they always do.</p><p>         She remembers Cassian, and she feels him beside her right now. She remembers the look in his eyes when he said that he loved her, and she remembers feeling, for the first time in her life, like she was worthy of that, like it might be something that she would be able to keep and return.</p><p>         She remembers that she loves him, and he loves her, and now, they both love this incredible new life that they created together, and nothing else could possibly matter.</p><p> </p><p>         This life, the life that they have built together, it did not come easily. They had to fight for it, both of them. Nesta once told Helion that she and Cassian were both fighters, not lovers. What a remarkable thing it is that they managed to become both. What a remarkable thing it is for the woman who thought herself incapable of love, and the man who thought himself underserving of love, to fight and scream and heal and forgive until they both found exactly what they were looking for, exactly what they never had- a home. And a family. And a love that is truly unconditional.</p><p> </p>
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